


No Reflection

by VampyrePrince



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Dark, F/M, Horror, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:42:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3304484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampyrePrince/pseuds/VampyrePrince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark wakes up with a pounding head and the first night terror he's ever had. With no memories of the night before, only a dream to sate his curiosity, and a strange fan-made remix that only manages to play correctly once before corrupting, Mark is discovering a side of himself that he really doesn't like. He doesn't know how to control it or what to do, other than to confront this darker side through lucid dreaming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Night Terrors

**Author's Note:**

> I made a soundtrack here: http://8tracks.com/shaneish/no-reflection-darkiplier
> 
> Okay, so this is going to get pretty dark. I love the Darkiplier idea immensely, but I tend to have more realistic and darker ways of handling things. I hope nothing in here is too sensitive, but it's only fiction. All of the out of character things Mark does is purely made up by me, and it obviously would never reflect him as a person, or the way I think of him. He's too much of a sweetheart, and I hope he can forgive me and allow me my bit of creativity. Thanks for inspiring me to write, Mark! No disrespect mean as always :)

_“I don't know which me that I love_  
Got no reflection”  
~Marilyn Manson 

A sheen of sweat formed across his brow as he tossed beneath the thin bed sheets. Hyperventilation became a threat as he grasped at the thin cotton covering his pillow, his body now contorted at a strange angle. Although asleep, a distinct feeling of dizziness and nausea crept across his insides like a disgusting wave – this finally broke the spell of whatever lucid dream he had been sinking much too far into.

“ _Fuck_!” 

Mark sat up instantly as his chest heaved from lack of air. His focus was cloudy at best, and his stomach was churning to the point that a trip to the bathroom, no matter how disoriented he was, had become inevitable. It was a struggle to even climb out of bed for that, and for a moment he contemplated just emptying his stomach where he sat. 

Shaking, Mark finally pushed the queasiness down far enough to no longer threaten his bed sheets. A distant headache was forming in its stead as well as a looming sense of confusion and dissociation. He felt disconnected from himself somehow, as if he were outside of his own body just watching and waiting to see what the physical 'he' would do. It was a new and very unwelcome sensation – one that Mark would be quick to be rid of. This was where he finally found the will to slide out from under the damp, sweat-soaked bed sheets. 

It was three in the morning and still very dark, save for the city lights in the ambient beyond Mark's window. A clammy hand reached out to touch the cold metal of the latch that popped open soon after, and Mark was met with the warm breeze of a typical LA night. Regardless for the lack of cool air he breathed in deeply – the fresh air like a gentle wake up call to his psyche. It was useless to try to relax to go back to sleep at that point. The nightmares would only return.

Mark jumped when his phone buzzed loudly on his night stand. His nerves were still on edge and his anxieties high. A chuckle crept past his lips, almost forcefully to create a sense of normalcy, and he ran a hand down his warm face. The phone felt like a dead weight in his trembling hand. “Hello?”

“ _Oh god, Mark. You're home. This is good... yeah this is good_.”

“What- Bob? What's going on, is everything okay?”

“... … … _Yeah. Everything's fine. Sorry to bother you, man. You busy tomorrow?_ ”

“Uh, no? You sure everything's alrigh-”

“ _Fantastic. I'll see you tomorrow. Just... just try to sleep, okay_?”

“Yeah.” Mark shook his head in confusion and decided not to pursue the conversation out of pure exhaustion. “Yeah, see you later, man.” 

Bob's end went dead first. Mark found himself standing there in the dark of his bedroom, just holding the phone to his ear in a stupor. He felt like he had missed some major event somehow and tried to recall the evening previous. His phone finally forgotten on his bed, tossed carelessly too close to the edge, Mark made his way to the kitchen. Maybe he would find clues there somehow, especially if those clues were empty glass bottles.

The kitchen brought no news of a drunk Minecraft session forgotten due to a black out, nor did it show any signs of a party he had forgotten about with his two best friends – both of which had agreed to come to LA to help him do a charity live stream for the month. He pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned against the cool counter. When was the charity live stream again?

Deciding it best to not wrack his brain that was stabbing from pain, he opened the medicine cabinet and took a few Aspirin. Thankfully his stomach had calmed down from its tirade moments ago, and he found himself growing insanely thirsty. Water seemed like a beautiful gift as he chugged an entire plastic bottle down. He tossed the empty bottle into a recycling bin on his way to the sofa, discarding his shirt in the process to cool down faster. At least the cushions on the couch were cool from disuse, and he found a distraction in the strange, trippy Adult Swim program line.

He knew he wasn't sick. He had been feeling fine before his episode earlier. In fact, everything had been going very well for the past week at least, hence the charity live stream that he still couldn't remember the date for. Soon obviously, seeing as Bob and Wade were in town. He would check his computer in the morning proper, or that afternoon if he did manage to fall asleep again. For some reason that thought terrified him, though. What he had just gone through wasn't something he was eager to return to.

It had been the worst nightmare he had ever remembered having. It was vivid and lucid; every emotion and every sensation felt so real. For the longest time he had forgotten whether he was dreaming or awake, but he had answered that question soon enough after he had managed to escape the dream. It couldn't have been real anyway. The thought that it was even in the realm of possibility was humorous, and Mark quirked a smile. He had done so many things that he would just never do. Said things that offended even his own mind, and he highly doubted he had suddenly developed a taste for human blood.

Too many late night horror game videos. That was it. He just needed to stop playing SCP Containment Breach and stop reading Creepypastas so late at night for a while. As silly as it seemed that he, a grown man, could become so psychologically disturbed by fiction, every human being had their limits. That didn't really explain Bob's phone call though, and at three in the morning?

Mark knitted his eyebrows as a discomfort settled in his stomach. What if something bad had happened? Mark had been so out of it from his night terror that he had completely neglected to even realize how strange it was to receive a phone call from Bob at that hour. A fleeting thought to call Bob back crossed his mind, but he decided against it. It was too late and he didn't want to risk possibly waking his friend. Speaking of sleep...

Mark shifted until he was lying on the couch on his side, the tv volume turned to a low hum. His last sight before sleep was a rerun of King of Hill – something he would gladly fall asleep to rather than be wrecked from another nightmare.

*

A pounding on the front door caused Mark to awaken, but none too enthusiastically. He groaned as his glasses shifted even more awkwardly on his face, and he sat up lazily to correct them once more. On his way to the door he swept up his shirt and threw it over his head, not too concerned about his appearances if it was only going to be Bob. “Comin'!”

He yawned as he unhooked the chain and deadbolt, stepping back in time for Bob to push his way inside the apartment. Mark lifted an eyebrow and closed the door once more, running his hands through his hair that had become a comical mess. Judging by Bob's facial expression, Mark knew he didn't look too great.

“Hey man, you okay?”

“Ugh, no.” Mark sulked into the kitchen to grab some orange juice. “I think I had my first night terror.”

“Ah.” Bob stood where he was as if he were hesitant to do anything, or to give anything away. “So, you just had a bad dream?”

“Yeah. I'm okay though. Nothin' I can't handle.” Mark smiled as he turned around and took a drink from his glass, only to drop his cheerful demeanor once he saw that Bob looked rather worse for wear himself. “Hey... what's up? Did something happen? You called pretty early.” Bob's face turned impossibly whiter.

“You don't remember?”

“Oh _shit_!” Mark set down his orange juice and ran to his calendar. “It's today, isn't it? Damn it, I knew I had the date wrong!” Bob forced a laugh and shook his head.

“No, man, not the charity live stream.”

“Oh...” Mark pulled back and scratched the back of his head, the gears turning but no light bulb popping to life. “I don't think I'm forgetting anything.”

“That's an understatement.” Bob crossed the room and sat on the couch. “You might want to sit down for this one.”

“Okay, you're scaring me. Did I black out or something?” Mark sat beside Bob and tried to relax, his muscles growing more and more tense as the air thickened. 

“Must have. Wade and I are actually still confused on what the hell you were on, man. You know you can talk to me if you're having issues, right?”

“... _What_?” Mark held a look of genuine confusion, and Bob seemed to respond with too much sympathy. Luckily Mark was a patient man, especially with his friends. Either this was a terrible joke or he had fucked up somewhere and needed to get a bit more sleep from now on. Lack of sleep can certainly turn you into something you're not, he supposed. 

“Look, Mark. I know you're not the kind of guy to mess with anything illegal, but-”

“Whoa. Whoa, whoa. I don't do drugs, Bob. Where in the hell did you get that crazy idea? What happened?”

“You really don't remember?”

“No, Bob, I don't. I feel like I'm missing something big here and you're the only one who can fill me in right now.” Bob sighed as if he were preparing to deliver the news of running over someone's cat, and averted his gaze. He couldn't look at Mark.

“You called Wade last night around ten. He then called me because he was really confused because you were being so damn cryptic. You wouldn't tell either of us where we were going, but you just kept saying, 'it'll be fun, guys! It's a surprise!'. You drove when we got to your place. You seemed like yourself, a bit too excited though if you ask me. We stopped at a bar first, which was the first thing that was a bit off. I mean, when's the last time we all went out to a bar, you know? Anyway, that was fine, you didn't really get too wasted or anything, but you still wanted to drive out of the parking lot.”

Bob shifted uncomfortably on the couch and continued, Mark's face full of concern. “You got in the driver's seat before Wade or I could take the keys, but you made a convincing enough of a story to prove you were still pretty level-headed. Before you freak out, no, we didn't get in an accident.” Mark sighed and leaned back on the couch a bit more. “After that though, you pulled into a-” Bob was clearly trying not to laugh, but failed miserably, “- a fucking stripper bar.”

“You're fucking with me now! Come on!”

“I shit you not, Mark. We thought you were joking until you actually walked up to the place.”

“Bob, you know I don't do that kind of shit.”

“Well, apparently last night you did.”

“Oh god.” Mark ran a hand down his face, feeling ashamed for something he couldn't even remember. “Do I even want to hear the rest, if it is the truth?”

“Well, you had a good experience if that's what you're wondering.”

“Jesus...”

“You got pretty loaded. Wade and I tried to get you to leave, because we knew something was up. I honestly thought you were taking something, you know, because I was worried you were stressed.” Bob held up his hands before Mark could protest again. “But you obviously weren't, I believe you. Wouldn't have believed you last night though.”

“So, how do we get to the part where I don't remember any of this?”

“Don't ask me. We got kicked out of the place after you went into the back with one of the girls. You wouldn't tell us what the hell happened. You were just fucking wasted, man.”

Mark's heart began to go into overdrive as he realized the details, at least what Bob recalled of them, were strikingly similar to his night terror. It would explain the sickness and the terrible headache, anyway. Hangovers were a bitch. As for the whole lap dance thing, though... He honestly hoped his mind fabricated some of the finer things. All of this information was bringing back his queasy stomach, and his head began hurting again. He did wake up with the smell of Vodka on his breath now that he began to recall. The distant taste of orange juice made his stomach churn violently, and he scrambled to his feet to run to the bathroom.


	2. Corruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A live stream, and a corrupt fan-mix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8 Track ST: http://8tracks.com/shaneish/no-reflection-darkiplier

Wade found an ice pack in the freezer and wrapped it in a towel to bring to Mark, who was lying on the couch with the worst hangover in the history of hangovers. It was dangerous for him to drink so much, and he was damn lucky that he didn't end up in the hospital after being so black out drunk. What upset him more than that was the fact that he had been a complete _douchebag_ last night. The idea alone of walking into a place where drugs, money and sex were the main focus made his cheeks burn. He still couldn't remember anything but the dream, and he was beginning to feel the truth of the night hitting him hard. What had possessed him to do that? What had he even been doing prior to blacking out completely? Oh god, he had driven while not in control of his own actions. He had fucked up big time, but why? 

“Hey, guys.” Mark tried to sit up slowly. “What was I doing before I called? Did I say anything?” 

“Just that you were reading some fan mail,” Wade stood with his arms crossed, his face full of worry, “and listening to some new remixes of a channel song someone sent you.” Mark nodded. Normal enough. 

“I can't think of anything that would have triggered a blackout.”

“Maybe you need a, you know, doctor?” Bob swallowed nervously as he tread sensitive waters. Mark lifted an eyebrow.

“It's just a hangover.”

“No, Mark. Like a... like a psychiatrist or something.” 

“Yeah.” Wade sighed and agreed with Bob. “You've been trying to do way too much lately. You gotta look after yourself.”

“I'm not losing my mind. At least, I don't think I am.” Mark lifted the ice pack from his head as the pain died down. “Maybe I should. Can't hurt anything.”

“Could've convinced me otherwise last night.” Wade seemed highly displeased, but backed down when Bob shot him a look. “The talk I had with Molly... Wow.”

“Ah jeez, I'm sorry guys. That wasn't me. I had no fucking idea what I was doing. I thought it was just a damn dream.”

“It's okay, Mark. Just get some help?” Wade softened as he saw his friend's distress, unfolding his arms as he sat in a nearby chair. Mark smiled and nodded, standing for the first time since he'd fallen back onto the couch after the unpleasant trip to the bathroom.

“Alright. I'll take it easy today. Thankfully the live stream isn't for a few days, so I'll be fine by then.” He made his way to the fridge and grabbed another bottle of water. “Hey, uh, you guys mind camping out here tonight?” The anxiety was plain in his voice although he tried to seem nonplussed. Bob and Wade were almost too eager to watch over Mark after what had happened, but left for the afternoon to give him some time to think, and to make a call to a counselor.

*

“Mark, what brings you in here today?”

“Honestly? I don't even know where to start.”

“Okay.” The middle-aged woman chewed on the end of her pen as she concentrated on her paper. “Why don't we start with this: What do you do?”

The session ended up being liberating in many ways, and Mark felt a bit lighter save for his opinion about the diagnosis upon leaving. She had mentioned something about 'dissociation' and 'multiple personality disorder', but Mark had taken her words with a grain of salt. He knew what it _sounded_ like, but he also knew he was perfectly sane. Had been his whole life for the most part at least. He had never had any reason to believe otherwise, and he was doing rather well in his life at that point anyway. It had just been an off night he supposed, and he would definitely try to get more sleep, and to become more aware of himself. He didn't need another repeat of the night everything had gone to hell. That just wasn't the kind of person he was, and the dream itself had made him feel awful. With the live stream only a day away, he needed to focus on much more positive things.

The office had been a decent walk from his apartment, so instead of driving he had just walked. It was best to clear his mind anyway, and he had at least one decent night since what had happened to reflect upon. Bob and Wade hadn't noticed anything strange during their stay, and Mark retained his memories – even managed to have a good time despite the lingering bits of his hangover. That was completely gone now, of course. 

Mark nearly bumped into a woman while his head was in the clouds, and he faltered in his steps to avoid her. Their eyes met and he apologized, but the moment she saw him her look soured. “Oh no, you get the hell away from me!”

“Sorry, have we met? If I did anything-”

“No, just... Just stay away from me, okay? I'm not into that freaky dark shit.” 

She hurried off in the other direction, not even wanting to walk past him on the sidewalk that was clearly big enough to create distance. His heart leaped into his throat at the realization that she seemed familiar after all. He remembered her from somewhere, he was sure. Blonde hair, green eyes, short, too much makeup... 

“Oh fuck.” It was the girl from his dream. The girl that he... 

Mark began walking again, just wanting to get home as soon as possible. Whatever he had done to freak her out so badly must have been bad enough to illicit a reaction like that. He hadn't hurt her or anything, he knew that much. Even fucked up on alcohol he had utmost respect for others as much as he did sober. It was going to eat away at him though. What had he _done_?”

*

“Hello, everybody! And welcome to the charity live stream with Markiplier, Bob and Wade!”

The day of the live stream was upon them, and all was working out fine. The small space Mark had rented was enough to make it a success, and the overwhelming response from his fans left him speechless as always. The chat broke at least four or five times, as it was most likely to do any time he had a live stream, and the stream itself had issues for a few, but they reached a point where everything seemed to be working fine. With the announcement of a new Five Nights at Freddy's, and more interesting indie games to come out in 2015, Mark's time was occupied with answering questions, reacting to the trailer for Five Nights at Freddy's 3, and playing some games on Newgrounds. Gmod was a main focus as Wade got Mark to play the Five Night's at Freddy's 2 mod. 

All in all the stream lasted for hours per usual. Bob and Wade were up on Twitter, as was Mark, and they were trying to get to as many Tweets as possible as their phones blew up. Scrolling through the feed was nightmarish, but Mark spotted a random question about a fan submission, and tapped it. “'Did you enjoy my remix, Mark', tweets NecroDancer. Yes, yes I did and it was fantastic. A bit dark for the channel but it was awesome regardless. Thanks for putting in the effort, it's always appreciated!”

“Let's hear it,” Bob mumbled as he scrolled through his feed.

“Yeah, we should play it.” Wade put his phone down to focus on the chat for a few.

“Alright, alright. Let me get it up here...” Mark concentrated on his screen for a few before clicking a file and bringing up his media player. “Okay, this is the new mix made by NecroDancer. It's actually pretty cool!” Mark clicked play and waited for a few seconds, knitting his eyebrows when it didn't work. “Sorry about that, something seems to be-” 

T̙͓͖̗̱̙͈͉o͍ ̫̪i̠̣ṋ̜̦̬͇v̝̗o̟̣k̪̝e̻͚̘͖ ͎͍̠t̙͔͈h̤̳e̠̘ ̲̰͈̹͉͓ͅh̝̟̠̲̣̘̟̪i̫͖̬͇̠̥̣̻͚v̦̞̫̟e̥̘̙͙̺-̙̤͇m̪̬͎͉i̥̦̲͇͙͇n͉͚̤͉̝d͙ ̜̲̳̟̯̘͙͎r̘̟̣͍̣̺̩e̞͎͖̮̦̻̹̥p̱̩͔͎̰r̝͙̭̻̗̰̮ͅẹ̯̤͇̹̻̝̠s͈͖͉̼̟̮̠e̻̥͚n͈͚t͈̯̳͓̘͕i͈͙n͈̱̻͉g̳̘̜̻̗ͅ ͎̬̖̝̳̰c̗̥͙̜̬͕̼h̭̮͎̗̗̲ͅa̱͈̙̝o̲͕̯s̹.̜̟  
̯̖̤̰̞͚͇I͓̩͍̘n̤̜͙̖̙͕̭̲̼v͉̠͈o̖̬͙̖͖̰͇k̜̠i̲̖̱̜̱̲͈n̙̻̱̤̪̜̤g̣͓̰̝̣̼ͅͅ ̜t̝͉̙h̥͓̮̜̘͔͖̯͈ẹ̖̠͍ ̦f̯̼̠̤͉̠̩e̟̮̱̰̫̘e̪͉̰̰͉̮l̩̰̮i̬̣ͅn̫̭͉̙̻̼͎g͇͎͔̞̼̝̗ ͎̥̤̘̹̞͇̜o͖̦̰̫̺̙̝̪̣f̬͇̫̳̮̫̠̱̱ ͈̬͚c̲̝͇̫̜̤̙h̠̙̲̫̟a̰͕o̪͉s͈̭̱̪̻.̱͈̗͈͓̱̙  
͕W̫̯͓̙i̼̹̬̠͍̫̝̝t͎͉͉h̬̘̞̥̲o̙̗̮u̗̗̫̯͓t̪̣̮̭͉̠̻̤̤ ͈̠̗̳̤̥̬o̪͍͔̖̥̫̖̤r͖̝͚̼͍̞̗d͔̖̬͔͕̘̰̙ͅe̹̟͎͓͔r͖͇.̼͙  
͈͎̱̣̳̺͇̲̬T̠̟͈̙͚h̞͎̲̪ͅe̖ ͎̣͖͍D̦̮̘a͙̝͕͍̰̳r̭̯̭͖̞̦̟̣ͅk̪ḭ̜̯̼̳̱p͔͍̫̟͍̬̙̙ͅl̠͚i̼̦͖͚e̻̹͇̻̖̠̟a̖̥͓̹͖n̖̗̤̜̞͈ ͚͍h̪̰͔̻̘ͅi͙̪v͎͙̼͖e͖͔͓̤̞̪̘̹̰-̫m̯̥̺͕̬̼i̭̺͖͎̯̳͕̭n̹͓̠̳̯̯d͎ ̤̘̰̱o͎̠͓͎͔̰f̩̺ ̖͕̘c̜̜͎̭̗͉h̭͉a̼̮̳̬̗̙ͅo̩̥ș̰̤.̖̼͇̝̘̭̘ ͍̪D̟̞͍̤̲a̞͍͎̣̬̖̫̞r͎̣͖͈͙̬k̹͚̙.̜̗̠  
͚̳͔̼̞̪͈̟̪H̩͈̥̩̭̟̦̯̝e̯̝͎̝̪͇̱ ̯̣̯͖̮̣͖ͅw͙̭̥̥̞̝͇ͅh̦̙͓o̜ ͔̬̹̪̺͖͖͓W̟͈͎͔͉a̤̹̮̩̳͈ịt͉̪̼s̬ ͙͎̰̺̩̗̗̗ͅB̙̲̯̳e̩̣͎̠͎h̲̺̖i͈̜̜̲̠̯̣̣n̯̻ḏ͇̫ͅ ͈̺T͎̞̗̟͚͍h̙̼͙͇̣e̱̠̗̠̜ ̣̞͍͕̼̼̞̘W̬̝̩̞a̼̳̯̻̺͖̹l͔͔̮l̞̮͎͙̘.̺͙̲  
͕͎̪͚̩̦̠D̰̳͍̠͚̬͚͉A̺̣R̗̲̺ͅK̮̹!̞̟̰ͅ  
̣̜̺̮͚̺͕̤̳T̜̰͍̤̰̱̪̥h̺͚e̫͇ ͖̞̙̹̠͕̝e̞̞n̖t͇̰̩i̹͙r̜͕̤̞̥̗̳̗e͉͇ ̻̩̤r̜͕͇̱o͎̱͍ͅo͍̩͓̹͉̝͚̫̹m̟̭̫̘ ͍͕i̠̜̘̹̪̤̦͖s͖̪̤̟̲͍̟͎͕ ͈̮̗͕̮̻f̱̜̥̘i̲l̪͍̪͈̫͍͇l͙͕̙̦̥͕e̦̭͔̙̜̮̱d̺̻̭̼̺ ̭̻̗̟͉̗̘̹̱w͎͈̦͎̣ͅi̺̗̟͙͈̺͎ͅͅt̮͙̳̪ͅh̜̘͈ ̰͇D̖̹̼͓̞͚a̬͇r͓͍̺̫͈̖ḵ͉͙͖̮.̜͉͕ͅ  
͔͖̙̱̟̭̦͕ 

 

The screeching glitch was deafening as the electronic words squeaked through the speakers. Apparently everyone in the chat suffered from bleeding ears as well, because it blew up with all caps and gibberish to turn it off. Mark fumbled to end the process after trying to end the program normally, sighing when it finally grew silent once more. “I'm so sorry everybody. It honestly didn't do that before. I sincerely apologize, NecroDancer, I'm going to post a link to it on the Facebook page as soon as I figure out what's going on with my computer here.”

Everything calmed down rather quickly, a few 'Darkiplier' jokes being thrown around in the chat. Mark was aware of the fan base and chuckled as he read some of the comments. It had all started with a silly video he made a few years ago, near the beginnings of his channel. It was meant to be a joke, but it blew up into a whole other thing on Tumblr and Deviant Art. Everyone had their own versions of a 'Darkiplier', and Mark found quite a few of them pretty damn cool and interesting. It never failed to astound him to see the creativity that he could inspire. 

It was getting late after a few more hours had passed, and Mark found mutual agreement from Bob and Wade, and the fan base that they should call it a night. Donations and special merch had ended up having an amazing turn out, and Mark was more than pleased with what the community managed to do once more. He left it at that, wishing everyone a good night, and signed off from another successful live stream.

He stretched wide and turned to Bob and Wade, glancing at the clock as he followed their eyes to it on the wall. Ten PM already. Mark went to stand but lost his footing quickly, falling back into the chair as his legs grew weak. Wade was the first to notice and stood to help Mark, who waved him away. “Nah, I'm good. Just tired I think. Thanks for a good-” His vision became fuzzy as his words trailed off, and he looked around to find Bob approaching his side. Wade had his hands on Mark's shoulders, worry etched all over his face. He heard Bob yell distantly for water, but it was as if he were miles away, straining to hear their voices. Everything went black after that.

*

 _Really? You gonna keep fighting this, Mark?_  
_Go ahead, keep thinking it's a dream._  
_Comfort yourself with that._  
_You're fucking hilarious._  
_Come on, man, you know it's only a matter of time._  
I̫̜̫̼̤̤ ̤̠̰͍̞̤͈͓͍a̪̫̭̥͕͉̲͚m̼͍̺ ̮̲͙̗y̖̦o̜̠̲͚̭̙͇ͅu͔͖͎͕̮͉̪  
̞̭̞̞ͅa̤͉̫ṇ̩̪d̬̯̮̮̤ ̩͔y̙͚̠̙̝o̰̫̩̤̮u̳͈̼͚ͅ ̞̪a̩̤r͍͖͉̹̲̙̪e̠̫̼͉ ͉͈̜͎͉̝̳̳m̦͈̠̜e̳̺͕͔͎̲ 

S͉͎͚̎͒ͯ̒ͅT̨̛̺͓ͨͮ͝Ȯ̙̥͙̬̻̱̰̿ͯ̿ͪ͘͞ͅP̪̓̂̋̿̿ͣ͞ ̧̳̗̠͙͈͙͐ͦ̎́F̵͖̻̏͌̌͆͆ͦ̃ͮ̚U̧̠̘͚̫̔͘͝C̨̧̙̖̥̍͌͡K̸͙̹͈̏̌͑͐̉͘I̠̭̩̩̼̪͓͙̔̏̾ͪ͋̾̀͜N̶̶̼͙̥̦͓̰͖ͫ̓ͪ͘G̸͗̐̓̊ͅ ̖͓͇̬̺ͨ̉F͇͓̰̝͇ͯ̿̅̾̓İ̑̇̇͋ͥͥ͏̦͕̻̘̯͚̲͝G̴̷̻̣̦̻͕̫̪̓ͦͬ̋͌̽͗H͔̣̊̈́ͣͮ̚̕T͖̪̮̖̮̥ͤͬĨ̻̭͙̘̖̠̅̑̽N̯̠͂̈́̓̌̐̅̕͜G̡̛̅͂ͫ̌̀͏̬̹̮̗͎̩͍ ̴̹̳̫̭̄́͌͌́̽̀ͅM̧̙̤̮̥̦͉͉̽ͤ̀͂̃́E̴̮̭̮ͦ͞!̴̧͖͙̜̦̗̭̦̫̋͑̅ͦ̿


	3. Dark Passenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark finds out exactly what has been plaguing him, but it isn't an illness. He isn't even sure he believes it himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if it's even considered m/m when it's a guy interacting with himself, but I marked it that because that's what it looks like. Time to meet Dark :D
> 
> 8 Track: http://8tracks.com/shaneish/no-reflection-darkiplier

Mark's vision came to as he blinked slowly, realizing that he was still leaning back in his computer chair. His anxiety caught up with him for a moment as the unfamiliar scene confused his senses. He was surrounded by wooden walls, sound-proofing foam and electronics. Bob and Wade were leaning on the desk near him, talking heatedly and glancing over at him from time to time. Wade noticed his friend had finally come to and he approached Mark quickly, kneeling before him to steady the chair. “Hey, Mark, you okay?”

“You scared the shit out of us! You just dropped!” Bob hurried to Mark with a bottle of water, helping his friend as he sat up in the chair. Mark's words seemed lost in his throat as he steadied himself, his fuzzy brain finally coming clear. He was in the rented office, and they had had a live stream. Had he passed out in the middle of it all? His eyes widened and he looked over at the computer, which was still showing the Twitch home screen. No video channel or recording signs seemed to be present and Mark calmed. He took the water gratefully from Bob and guzzled some. That had been an unfortunate turn of events.

“What time is it? How long was I out?” 

“You've been out for at least an hour. It's eleven.” Wade stood back to give Mark breathing room. He was pale with worry and his phone was gripped tightly in his hand. Had he been ready to call an ambulance?

“'m okay, really. Thanks guys.” Mark stood slowly and gave himself a second to adjust, then moved to unhook his equipment. “This is the second time this has happened.”

“You don't have an odd desire to go see naked women, do you?” Bob looked horrified for a moment until Mark began to laugh. 

“Nope. As much as I love boobs, I am not in the mood to be a douche tonight. I'm the same old Mark.” Wade and Bob sighed with relief. They joined Mark in gathering their equipment to take out to the car, watching him closely all the while. Mark hated coming off as fragile and he was upset that he worried his friends, but he would show them he was alright for now even though he wasn't quite so sure of that himself. “Hey, you guys can crash at my place if you want to. We can hit a pizza place or something on the way back.”

Bob and Wade seemed happy with that idea, so it was planned for the night. Usually they would celebrate the evening with junk food, alcohol and games, but tonight would have to be sans the alcohol after everything that had happened. Mark didn't want a repeat of the night he lost his marbles. The very idea made him shudder with embarrassment. It was too bad that his friends were leaving the day after the next. He could've really used their company to help watch over him for at least a few nights. He would have to make due with a visit to a doctor to get some tests done at least. Maybe it was neurological.

Bob volunteered to drive, glad that Mark didn't protest this time. It seemed to put him at comfort seeing that Mark was, indeed, himself for the night. Hopefully the rest of the visit would go without incident, and all of the freak happenings would be written off as a fluke of some sort. Everything could then be forgotten and Mark would never have to visit a counselor again. Not that it was any trouble or that she was a bad counselor – it just didn't feel right. 

The boys stumbled into Mark's apartment with pizza and soda, and Wade was the first to go boot up the TV and PS4. The night passed without further incident, and Mark finally found a restful sleep.

*

A smile crossed the friends' faces as they parted ways, Mark closing his apartment door after them. He would miss their company as usual, and his apartment always felt a bit lonely after they'd visited and gone. His remedy for this, of course, was to record something. Everyone had been asking for more SCP Containment Breach, so he figured that it would be as good a time as any to truck through an episode. He had been feeling better and was certain his episodes were over with since they hadn't returned after the last. It was back to life as usual, and there were video games that needed to be played. He booted up his computer and set up his recording equipment.

After the usual warm ups he felt great to be back. There was finally some normalcy to his days again and he had no worries. He still wasn't quite ready to go back to his usual schedule, which involved much less sleep than he should have gotten. He had made a promise to himself after everything that had happened to sleep a bit more, and he would stick to that. No doubt his fans would worry as well if he lived purely on caffeine and games. That was something he definitely would not do.

At about the ten minute mark during recording, Mark noticed a strange noise coming from the game. He paused and leaned back in his chair, perplexed and freaked the fuck out. “Excuse me?! What the fuck was that? I've never even heard that sound in this game before.” He moved through a door and then an elevator; nothing seeming to be in sight. It then became silent - too silent for comfort. “Was there an update or something? I don't remember updating...”

The game froze instantly as the words left Mark's mouth. He cursed loudly before hitting a few buttons, nothing working to remove the frozen game from his screen. He sighed and apologized to the camera, hurrying to ctrl+alt+del out of the program.

Nothing.

“ _Shit_. Don't tell me I have a goddamn virus!” Mark pounded on his keyboard, groaning as he tried every button combination he could think of. He resorted to reaching for the power button directly on the tower itself, jumping back and scrambling to rip off his headphones as a loud, glitched screech attacked his eardrums. A violent _clack_ emanated throughout the quiet apartment over the screeching as his headphones hit the computer screen. It was still displaying SCP Containment Breach, but the graphics were discolored and distorted. The screech was continuing without signs of fading out, garbled electronic gibberish crackling in the discarded headphones. Mark's heart began to pound faster as the plague-masked monster came onto the screen, its movements jerky and unnatural. Its face turned to stare at the screen, or rather through it to see the person on the other side.

“H̫͎̺̳̆̈́̏͆͌̈́͆é͙̹̘̞͎̮̫̤̈̌l͉̭̪̟̬̻̹̔̿̈́͒ḷ̹̣̩͎̟͓̐ͭ̊ͥ̊o͍̘͚̖̼̫̲͒ͩ̈́ ̦͉̰̻̹ͥ̓ͭM̖̳̪̩͍̎ȧ͉̣͉̣͍̂̑̆̈́͒ͧͪr͔̯͖̙̯͙̮͇̋͒ͨ̇̈̏̚k̳̪̙͙̱̫̝̥̇̌ͤ̇̄ “ (Hello, Mark)

“What the fuck, man?!”

 

“O̳͎̼͈̯̹ͯͭ̒̎̔ͬḧ̯̠̣̖̜̃,̰̟̬̟̓̃ ̬̫̠͈̜̺̌̄̑̌ͬ̓ͯ̿s̰̥̜̞̣͇͉͉̤ͬ̿ͬ̓o̫̥̗͎ͦ̈́̓ͮ̈ͫ̚r͔̩̺͕̝͉̙̣̮̅͗ͧ̄̅͗r̳͕̤̯͔̖͔̆̋ÿ͓͕͉͚̘͈̦.͕͕̗͎͙̙̬̤̇̒ͦ̑̐̚ ̘̳̟̞̈ͦI̻̙̗̫̙̺̙ͭ̊͒̆̾ ̲̱̗̙̘͖ͧ̑̉s̪͕̥̥̖̯̼͒͐̓͊ͩ̏ͫͣ̄u̟̖̭̝͕͍͖̗̬͆̑p̺̲̻̱ͬ͆p͚̺͍̬̗̼̪̮͓͑̇ͫ̌ͫ͒ͬͣo̝̘̫̟̲̭̲̮̺͗͛s̰̙͓̮͇̫ͬ̀̋ͅe̠͑̄ͧ ̮̻̩̘̞̒̆ͫy̥͎͈̰̱̘̩͆̎͋͂ͅo͙̝̮̩ͯͭ͐̋̓̓̇̚̚u̞͒̽̀̾ͪͣ ̦̠̺̌͑̑ͤ͂ͅc̪̮͙͙̹̪̮̺͎̾ͨ̃ͣͫ̚ȃ̦͕͕̩̹͈̍n̪̤̘̮̳͊͂͊͊̈́̐'̫̰̰̲̳̹̻̂̓̀ͮ͋̈̈͒ẗ͙̠̰͎̹͔̙̘́̏̂̓̓ͥͥ ̳̙̥̺͚̗̑̂ͩ̊̄̾̀̽̊r̥̬̬͈ͩ̔̓e̤̮̠̼̻͓̜̜ͬͮ̽̚̚c͓̠̗̼̤̘̐̓͑̑̎̍o̗̻̜̣͌̀ͧͩ͂g̰̘̤̯̦͉̱̝ͧ̌ͤn͕ͤ̌̉̌ͫ̄̉̾͌i͉͍̭̪̋z̝̙̠̯̫͈̬̘ͪ́e̻̺ͫ̄̾̋ ̱̬̳̥ͮ̄͑̉̈́m̭̩̟̼̺̞ͬ͒̎̎͂è͇̭̀ͯ̿ͣ̏̇ ̞̙̂̇́͒ͩ͐̅͛l̲̹̯̠̾̈̾̿̾̚i̪̞̔ͨk̹̤͎̲̑̇̐̃̉̉è͎͎̬̜̽͐̈́ͨ ̤̻͈͈̾̅t̲̲̍ͭ̇h̲̩̘̀͋ͭị͎̹̪͉̋͊̌͛̀̑̂s̘̳̈̈́͗͋̓̃̚.͈̳͈͉͕̬̜̉̓͛̑̿̓͑ “ (Oh, sorry, you probably can't recognize me like this)

 

Mark's jaw dropped and a sound of horror escaped his throat as he watched the plague mask slide from the being's face to reveal his own, or something akin to his own. Its eyes were light gray as if he were staring into his own lifeless gaze, and the skin seemed scarred over a much too pale complexion. Short yet voluminous black hair covered one eye before it was brushed from the being's face, its hand thin and bony with rough black nails. Despite the horrific features, it looked just like him.

Mark instantly unfroze from his position of shock and began laughing. “Oh my god. Whoever did this is a fucking _genius_!” He couldn't stop his laughter, more so at himself for becoming so afraid over a simple game. The figure on the screen frowned as an ugly scowl replaced its otherwise peaceful expression.

 

“W͚͙̮͚̱̞̱̙͕ͫͨ̂h̝̞͕͕͔͚͔̀̉a̺͎͕̤̠̭̒̐̾ͩͮ̍̅̚t̩̤͍̥̰̻̼͕͛ͪ̍ ̘͖̣͍̊̊̓͐̾ͭ̑͑̃t̮͎̲̻̍ͥ̋̋͌ͪͤͅͅh̦͚̘͐̆̈e̦̥ͪ̌̔̂ ̘̳̮̜͂̀̍f̫͍̝͛̓͂ͤͦ̃ͨu̘̺̦̹͔̣͕͂ͨ͂c̠͉ͩ̾̀̄̓̔̇ͬk̖̙͐ͤ̉͑ ̭̭̊͆̐̋̂̿a̞̬ͮͮͯͤr̳̫͇̦̫͉̹͆̓ͫ͋̍̃ȅ̦͆ͧ̒̅̐ͅ ̱̜̪̭̝̬͖̽̿̽̒̆́͑y̳̥̙̬̺̬̼͓ͥ͒̑̒͛͌o̭͙̙̣͈̝̭̮̮ͨͫ͒͛u̯̫̼̟ͥ ̰̭̭̼̬̮̯̋͆̇̽ͭ̊̓̔l̠͓͚̫̹̤͙̯͆ͥ̅ͣͧ̈́̓͑̚a͚͕̖̘̰̙̐̌ͫ̊ͣ̊ȕ̻͔̺͇̹͖̍͋ͦͧg̗̟͈̲͗͊͗ͤ͆͗̇̎ͅh̤͖̑ͩͦi̼̦̳͔͋ͫ͂ͩ̒́n̠̞̦̻̗̘͖͇̓̂̅ͤg̤̣̓ͮ̽ͨ ͔̫̌ͪ̊͌͛ͩ̋̂ả̳̼͕̱̬̀̅͗̐t͙̮̞̄?͈̰̜̃ͫͅ!̖̟̜̻̞͖̠͕̐ͤ ̥̗͈͙̯̏̈͌̉͊̌̿Y͚͓͔̝̫̙̗̩͋ͩͩͨͬͅȏ̯̝͓̲̟̩ͪ͊̓͗̃ͣ͒ū͈̙̘͔͈ͣ͛ͮ ̭̗̬̬̠̯̻̼̭ͣ̍̍t̘̻͇̲̊ͣh͕̱͈̺̿̃̂̽̎̐ï̥̺̠̈́̎͑̃n̠̹̝͖̜̘͉͚ͤͣ̓ͦͩk͈̖͉̬͉ͩ ̩̣̰̭̖̯̹͇̟͒t̻͆͋̈́͂̚ḥ͉̙̟̰̞̦̫̗̑̑ͪî̻͈̗̰̳̯̮͐ͣ̓s̙̹̥̳̦̰̽ͧ ̙̣̺͙̝͖ͧ̍ͩͫͤͥ̾̚i̭͉̤̦̪̩̔̃s̱̰͙̰̗̻͑ͬ̒̋͑ͯ͂ ̭͇̐͗̒ͅạ͎͓͚̻̣͐̊̽͒ ̬̯̩̍̅̌j̯̤͖̗̭͚͙́̒̉̉ͪ̚õ̲͇ͅk̫͙ͨͯ͊̈ͤ̅̈́̈e̻̎ͭ̌ͥ͗ͦ?̯̽̊̍̚!̞̼̭͒ͫ̓͌ͧ̈́͒ͭͅ “ (What the fuck are you laughing at? You think this is a joke?!)

 

“... Uh, what?” Mark leaned forward and stared into the undead-looking Mark's eyes. “How'd it know I was-”

 

“L̩ͥ̋̿̀͗͆̚ǎ̜̱̻̞̫͐̑̐̉͗̐u̠̣̔̽̃g̭̤̻̗͖̲͉̍ͪ̾̈͐̚h̠͕̔̈͛i̥̗̺̩̳͉̯̣̇ͮ̍̿͆͒̀̚ͅn̜̩̯͙͍̙̽̑͊͌̇ͮ̑ͣ̆ͅg̺̻̖̲̿̽?͔̯̰͋̂ ̳̟̫̭͙̞̭͛̀ͮ̔ͪ́͗̃̽ͅB͖̪̯̻̓̉̀̍e̠͉͖͈̙̩̒̅ͅĉ͉͔̙̲͉̗̮̫ͣ̽ͩa͕̯̱͕̖̽̏̋ͪͦ̒͗u͍̦͔̼̤͍̿̐ͦͤͦͧš̮̘̘͚̳̫̆̐̏̎̚ͅě͎̺̞̞͉͖̼̯̃́ͤͤ ͕̟ͭI͉̰͕̟͉̻̟͑ ̤̫̊ͥ̿ͦ̽c͓̣̝̫̅̏̒ͅa̺̜͇ͭ͗ñ̹̤͈̦ͮ̉ ̰̟̩̭͚̉ͪͪ̉̆̑s̭̞̭̰̤̍e̦̬̞̘̱̦͖͐̆ͨ̚ͅē̤̲̩̣̱̘̜̥̂͋̍̉̂͐͑ ̜̫̍̋y͖̦̤̰̰̫̒ͩͨ͗͂̈̈ͭ̂o̖̳̊̎͂́u̩̦̳̘̰̳͗́̋̅̓ͤ̏̎,̰̭͙̖͔̳͎̔ ̣̙̄̔̄̍ͩ̀̓̿͋a̬̞͙̼͇̹͖ͥ͛n̜͚̣̮̯̪ͭ̐̾̂ͅd̪̞͛́̀̆̒̚̚ ̲͛ͨ́ͯ̐ͦd͎̟̳̦͎ͮ̒ͦ̌̏̃a̦̼̭̖̖̮͂ͧ͒̎ͯͣm͕̹̈́̿̓̍ͯ͋n̩̘̓̐͆̔ ̲̐͋ͩă̩̥̳̩̙͎̥͖ͫ̀r̜̪̹̟͙͋̎ͅͅë̟̘́ͭ̈́ͫ̄̍̈̂ ̤̱̫̣̣̭̾y̦̝̠̞̒ͫ̋̆͗̚ͅọ͎̙̳̲͕̭ͧ̏͗ȗ͇͕̺͚̜͋̀ ̺͖͕̌ͯͧͥ̒a͎̠͕͋ͭ͑̇̾ͧͯͅ ̰̰̦͚ͤ̚h͇̜̥̥̤ͮͧ̓̂̂̒a̙̣͚͍̱̬̠̳͌ͦͮn͕̙͎̠̰̱͚͚̈͑͒͂͊̀̎̋d̖̦̪͎̤͓̙̟̆̃͌͐̓́ͥͮs̥̝̍ͣ̎o̘̩̻̮̙̰̼̳͔͐͛ͫm̙̲̙̪̭̞͙̱̳̓̈̂͋̃e̜̤̳͔͖͙͓̜ͫ̄̈̑̔ ̼̹̟̏ͨ͑͑ͬ̂b̙͈̤͔̺̻ͨ̂͌̾̌ͤẽ͓̺͎̿̇a͖͔̣̪͓̹ͯ̃ͧͯ̃ͧ̐̒s͙͈̤̪̯̫͉ͪͭͣ̅ͮͪͩt͇̬̞̘̻̭̻̰̘̽̇̉̌ͩ̓̿.̗̬̫̫̺͚̻͔ͫͨ “ (Laughing? Because I can see you, and damn are you a handsome beast)

 

Mark jumped to turn off his PC at that point. This was getting beyond freaky and he did not need anymore weird things happening, not when he had finally found some normalcy.

 

Y̹ͪͭͯͤO̤̺̻̊ͥ̅ͪͯ͆ͦ̾U̹̼̻̗͑ͬ̍ͨ̒̈́ ̱̘͍̰̱̱́̿̀ͣͯ̇ͅͅC̯͛ͫͦ̉A̘͓͚̫̙͔͕̼͗̊̇N̰͙̱̭̩͒͂̇̇'͕̠̝̇̿T͈̻̲͗ͤͤ͊ͭ ̺̙̰̣̺̲̫̒ͮ̾G̩̱̫̲̬̻̈́̇̂E̮ͧ̋̈̒̏ͩͣͪ̚T̺͎͆͛ ̭̲̩͊̆Ṛ̳̮͙͂͂I̖͉̩̞̣̯͖͑ͦ̒ͦ̄Ḏ͎̲̻͛̽͒͛̅͗ ̩̝͔̹͖̞̪̖͎̇̊̃ͦ͛O̗̲̝̫ͣ̿ͧ͂͌F̞̯̬͕͍͎̰͒ͩ̐̌̍ͣͦ̃ ̘̰̤̘ͣ̐̉ͤ͐̄̂̽M̞̰̻͌̑E͓̦̖̮͔̺̬ͤ.͇͈͖̜̯̥̠̈́ ̣̪̳̩̯̗̬̓ͮ̂I̗̝̪̟̖ͥͮ͐̓̿̄ͦ'͇̰̖̮̞̇͌͛̌̏L̙͗ͪ͐͆ͫͧ̾͂͂L̙͕̹̥̗͖̭̮̃ͮ̓̀͂ ̬͋S͈̟̠͓̗̠͐ͨͩ̍E̮̩̹̤͚͚͋ͥ̅̈̆ͭ͑ͮE̻͕̠̬͒ ̘͍̳̙̬̥̤̱͌̋͑͒ͯ̊ͭͯY̬͓͔̖͌̃͒ͤ̅O̙̺͔͋̍͗̒́Ũ̱̥ ͕͈̟̠͖̃̇͆T͈̙̟͈̥̪ͯͮO̺̩̲͙̅ͬͭͬ̎ͥŃ̗̮̙̻I͉̼̼̤̹̳̪͎̖̍̈́ͥG̣̲̥͈ͪ̉̅͊̊̽ͦ̽ͅH̩̗͉̦͓͙̣͈͆ͦ̊̚T̲͈̞̠̳̊ͅ,̘̖̰̦͓͇̊͛͋ͣͨͥ͂̐ ͍͚̌̈̈́͒̎̂H͉̱̗̆̐ͤ͐̇̅̚À̼̙̺͊̇ͩ͐̓ͨ͆̚N̗̠̗̜͈̺̲̥̱͂̑̎̍̑̈́́D͚̮̩͑ͥ͒̑ͣS̲̙͓̹͍͉ͫͥO͉̘̞͕̟̺͙̯ͩ͊̓͛͊ͯͫ̓M͇̤̰̼͕̫͙ͨͪ̌̏̐̑̅E̪̦͍̺̘ͯͩ!̜̣͎͔͍͍̬͓͐̉ (YOU CAN'T GET RID OF ME. I'LL SEE YOU TONIGHT, HANDSOME)

 

The computer powered down at last, and Mark was left leaning over his desk, gathering his headphones that had fallen on the keyboard. He looked up at the camera and realized it was still recording. The red light disappeared as soon as he turned it off, wondering why it hadn't powered off with his computer in the first place. No, he didn't even want to think about it or question it anymore. He needed a shower and some time away from the computer. He would return to the footage later and edit that bit out.

*

A Spongebob marathon was enough to put Mark's mind at ease again. His computer probably needed a virus scan and a good cleaning as it was. He suspected NecroDancer's audio file was to blame since it was the first thing to glitch before SCP crashed. He would have to be more careful about opening random files included in fan mail from then on, as he should have been to begin with. There was always _that_ guy in every fandom when you got to a certain level of popularity, and that was probably it. Some weirdo was probably trying to get his personal and private information or something, or just to crash his hard drive. Luckily it seemed to have failed so far, but succeeded in helping to prevent further attacks on Mark's electronics.

It was around ten before he finally decided to head to bed. His mind was still bothered by what had happened in connection with his black outs, and he knew he needed to just sleep it off. This thought encouraged him to rise from the couch, turn off the TV, and power down the rest of the apartment before heading to his bedroom. He had already showered after the computer incident and was ready to just crash, opening his window beforehand to let in some fresh night air. It wasn't as hot that night as it had been, and the nighttime ambiance would be like music to his ears as it lulled him to sleep.

*

 _Walls covered in an institutional metal surrounded Mark as he looked around – several doors fading into the distance to his right. To his left was an elevator that looked strikingly similar to the ones in that damn SCP game. He was dreaming._

_He_ knew _he was dreaming._

 _Huh. That was interesting. He'd had dreams before that were quite vivid, but he knew for certain this time that he was asleep in his bed dreaming away, the REM sleep cycle having taken control moments ago. He looked down at his hands and the rest of his body. He was as he had fallen asleep: No shirt and Warfstache 'M' pajama pants. His other senses were soon tested as well when he feet became cold. He was standing on hard metal, so of course that much made sense. Another look around proved to reveal that he was, indeed, within the SCP lab. “Oh, yes, this is_ exactly _where I'd love to spend my night.” The sarcasm was positively dripping from his words._

“Sorry. This is the only place I could reach you.”

_“Come again?”_

“I haven't come once, slow down tiger.” 

_Mark attempted to hide a smile as he scrunched his face in disgust. A being came into view, and it was that same being he had seen on his computer screen earlier when the game had glitched. The humor was wiped from Mark's face as he recognized the thing, its face like his and its outfit that of the plague doctor's, the mask resting in the gentle grip of its right hand._ “Hey, handsome devil. Told you I'd see you again.”

_“I've been playing way too many horror games.” Mark crossed his arms and glanced around. “Thought I'd never say that.”_

“Ah, but see, this isn't the result of too many sleepless nights or any cheap indie horror game you may have gotten your paws on.”

_“Yeah, and I'm going to listen to a freaky dream-me.”_

“You should.” _Freaky-dream-Mark approached real Mark to extend a hand. Mark noted it carefully, hesitating before he took it in his, glad to see that it was only intended as a friendly handshake._ “If you haven't guessed by now, I'm Dark.”

_“Look pretty pale to me.”_

“No, no..” _The being chuckled and reclaimed its hand._ “My name is Dark. I am you.”

_“The resemblance is striking, but last time I checked I didn't look like I walked out of a Night of the Living Dead flick.”_

“I'll pretend that was a compliment.” _Dark observed Mark fully for the first time, his eyes full of interest as he seemed to undress Mark with his very eyes._ “You're quite the compliment yourself.” _Mark blushed and crossed his arms to cover his chest._

 _“Really? You have a thing for yourself, if you_ are _me? I hate to burst your bubble, but we aren't narcissistic, dude.” Dark laughed deeply and approached Mark, sliding his hands away and placing his hands on the peachy flesh._

“We can be narcissistic in our own mind if we want to be.” _Dark ran his hands down Mark's arms, smiling as his real self seemed to lose the ability to breathe. This alter-ego seemed to hit a nerve somewhere._

_“Am I? I mean, we? Is this why you're-” Mark's eyes shot quickly to Dark's as a pale, bony hand grabbed his chin gently. “- eating me alive with your eyes right now?”_

“You're a smart one. How did you think narcissism worked?” _Dark caressed Mark's bottom lip with his thumb._ “Stop fighting me, Mark. There are so many things I want to do with you that you won't allow.”

_“Woah, buddy. Jacking off is one thing, but...”_

“Unfortunately that isn't where I was going with that one. Get your mind out of the gutter.” _Mark pinched the bridge of his nose as soon as Dark backed away from him. He was feeling..._ funny. _That was the only word for it._ “I meant things out there, and not in here.” _Dark held his plague doctor mask in front of his face and a thoughtful finger in the air._ “It's a bit creepy in here, if you hadn't caught on by now.” _He lowered his mask once more, tossing it behind his shoulder._

_“Creepy is an understatement.”_

“I want to do fun things, Mark. Remember that girl? Hot, wasn't she?”

_“Oh come on, I'm not a douche like you. I had a mental breakdown, okay? That wasn't me.”_

“But it was. It was me, and I am you.”

_“Yeah, I got that, except for the part where you're a figment of my dreams, and that's it. I'm just having a damn nightmare because of the corrupted file in my game.”_

“That was fun. I had to get your attention somehow.” _Dark sighed and looked up to the corner of the room by the elevator. Mark followed his line of vision to see absolutely nothing of significance, and then focused back on his alter-ego, who had approached him once more and was uncomfortably close. He was caught off guard as he froze on the spot, his body unable to react as Dark pressed their lips together._ “You've been sleeping too long. Time passes quicker while you're in this state, so it's not ideal for communicating with you.” _Dark kissed his likeness once more, much longer this time, before pulling away and waving a hand as if to dismiss Mark._ “I'll see you again when you go to sleep tomorrow. You'll come around soon enough.”

_Mark attempted to slow his breathing as he licked his lips - his environment fading quickly around him into darkness._


	4. Not Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course Mark's curiosity would get the better of him. A glitch was all it was, and the video was just that: A recount of a crashed game. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be most interesting!
> 
> 8 Track: http://8tracks.com/shaneish/no-reflection-darkiplier

The sunlight hit Mark's face like a beam of pure heat intent on frying his skin. This was enough to rouse him from his sleep, a painful groan escaping his lips as he sat up. He looked down at the thin bed sheets covering his midsection and found the source of his discomfort. It had been a while since he'd woken up with a pang of pleasure between his legs, not to mention an embarrassing tent in his pajama pants. He grumbled as he slid out of bed, refusing to do anything about that this morning. It had been brought on by his ridiculous dream, and he wouldn't give that nightmare any more fuel. 

Mark closed the window and made his way to the a/c unit in the front room, kicking it on high and sighing as the cold air hit his hot face. He had been sweating from the sweltering LA heat drifting in through the window he'd left open the night before. Although he'd showered last night, the renewed sense of discomfort from bodily sweat bothered him. He would go out today if he was going to shower. He needed to get a few things at the store anyway, and it wouldn't hurt to stop by the mall to check out the game store. At least it got him away from his apartment for a while and into the fresh air, no matter how hot it was. 

Grabbing his Reptar sleeveless shirt and a pair of impossibly tight jeans, he entered the bathroom to start the shower. The cool water felt better than the warm, and it was much more preferable at that point to rid him of his issue down south. He was still bothered by that, and it brought back memories of the dream – memories that seemed as if they were from an actual event and not a dream at all. That damn glitched file on his computer had to go. No doubt it was the cause of all of his issues and it was just getting to his head. He entertained a cliché Creepypasta notion for only a few seconds before he scoffed at himself, finishing his shower quickly and stepping out to wrap a towel around his midsection. Damn stories had a way of creeping into your head, alright. 

He made a few faces at himself in the mirror, contemplating taking a selfie to post to Twitter and Facebook. He decided against it, mainly due to the fact that the fangirls would lose their minds, and possibly other things as well. He wasn't ready to begin his day with an onslaught of: 'and there go my underwear!' 'OMGF HELP FCKU'. Not that he minded those sorts of comments. They made him laugh and he felt flattered that so many women – and possibly men – were so infatuated with him. Sometimes he would play the game and see just how far he could go before everyone ended up melting the social sites he posted to, but today just wasn't a good day. He was drained even though he'd slept all night, and he had that weird philosophical yet sort of erotic dream on his mind. “Dark, huh?”

Mark smirked as he looked into the mirror, the water still dripping down his skin. He tried to make an evil face as if to mock the figure in his dreams, and in some weird way proving to himself it had only been a silly dream. He laughed at himself after a while and turned to get dressed, but stopped as he realized something. He whipped around so quickly it made him dizzy for a few seconds, focusing back on the mirror. His reflection was still staring back at him as if it were an entity of its own.

Mark backed away slowly, rubbing his eyes hard until he saw sparks, then opened them again to let them focus once more on the mirror. Once his vision was clear he only saw himself as he was, his reflection moving in tandem with him. He spun around and watched the mirror once more, relieved to see that it was merely his own reflection. He took a deep breath and ran a hand down his face, exasperated at the whole thing. This shit was starting to get to him in the worst way. Maybe while he was out he would grab an over the counter sleep aid, or anything that would increase the likelihood of not having dreams that night.

*

As Mark hunched over, searching the pharmacy shelves for something that would put him to sleep without too much of a groggy after effect, he stumbled upon the usual suspects: Tylenol PM, Nyquil sleep aids, Melotonin, which in his experience worked best if not used regularly. He wanted something he could use for at least a few nights. Then he would try to sleep naturally once more. Valerian Root was another option, but it was a toss up when it came to herbal remedies. He decided to try the Nyquil sleep aid, the product a relatively new one. It wasn't meant for colds like the other variations, and seeing as over the counter cold medicines caused him to become quite loopy it was the best choice.

He grabbed a few other things for late night snacks, but skipped out on soda. He needed to cut back on caffeine for at least a week to give his mind and body a break. A change up on his channel would help, too. It had been a little while since he had focused purely on comedic or silly games. Maybe even some bad ones, like that one broken game. Definitely Happy Wheels. There would be a lot of Happy Wheels. He'd been playing too many horror games and serious in depth indies for too long of a stretch now, and that wasn't going to help his new problem either. He was loyal to his fans, so he would be sure to pump out content as he could manage it; much more light-hearted content.

The rest of his adventure around LA was rather uneventful. He ran into a few fans and that brightened his mood considerably as he entered the game store. Beyond that he struck up a conversation with one of the employees there, trying to figure out what some of the better games were that were out right now. As much as he was into PC gaming, he kept his eyes on console games as well, keeping an open mind as always for a possible series to make on a PS4 or 3 game.

Keeping suggestions in mind, he left the store with an issue of Game Informer and headed home.

*

His apartment was heavenly upon entering the air conditioned space. The halls in the apartment building were a bit too warm for his comfort, and it was even worse when you had things to carry with you. The snacks went into the cupboards and the Nyquil sleep aid onto the counter before Mark turned around to survey his computer. He wanted to make a video today per his schedule he had set. He had felt guilty because his schedule had fallen behind as he handled the live stream, and then due to his strange new problems with blacking out. Thankfully that hadn't happened for a while now, and he was happy to see that maybe his issues were almost dealt with. It was only a matter of time and a bit of a healthier schedule once more.

Sitting at his computer, Mark turned on the power switch and waited with baited breath. The last time his computer had been on it was during the incident with the SCP glitch. He hoped like hell the hard reboot had fixed that issue, and he was somewhat worried that someone had managed to successfully hack him somehow. It wasn't an unrealistic fear when you rose to a certain level of fame. It was a scary cyber world out there, but it wasn't anything Mark couldn't fix. He remained positive as the sign in screen popped up. Good so far. Thankfully everything seemed normal as his computer loaded to the desktop. He leaned back and let out a deep breath before opening his internet browser, loading up a game of Happy Wheels. He configured his recording equipment and settled in to create a longer than normal Happy Wheels play through, but remembered his camera and what had happened the night before. 

It had kept recording without power, and the footage was on his hard drive somewhere.

Steeling his resolve, convincing himself that he was being too cautious over a ridiculous thing, he opened the folder that led to his recordings. The file was a series of zeroes, ones, and odd characters that shouldn't have been allowed in a file name. He leaned against his desk, resting his elbow on the edge. He ran his fingers across his lips as he contemplated what the right action would be. His curiosity was killing him, however, and knowing himself he was going to open the damn thing regardless. If it was a virus of any sort infecting his files, his anti-virus program would have quarantined it and his computer would have been much, much worse off. As it was, the thing was functioning perfectly fine as if nothing had happened or changed.

_Click, click!_

An involuntary twitch of his finger – that's what it was. That's how he justified opening the recording anyway, settling in and bracing himself for some more freaky shit. The video opened in full screen, his normal game play footage passing by frame by frame. His face had gotten much closer to the screen by the time the footage glitched out, only to reappear with a screen of static and sharp noises. Mark frowned and adjusted the sound, trying to make out whatever was coming through. There were garbled words muttering consistently in the background of the static, and they sounded similar to the garbles in NecroDancer's audio file from the live stream glitch.

“ _He... wall..._ He who hides behind the wall...” Mark focused harder, the words nearly inaudible. “Dark...” The figure then came into view on the screen once more, although unable to communicate through the screen as before, if it was communicating through the screen. Mark caught himself and trashed that train of though really fast. Seeing the familiar figure once more, Dark, caused a chill to run up his spine. His alter-ego, eh? It was a fun idea, but not one he was willing to entertain any longer. He fast-forwarded the video until it reached the point where he had shut off the computer. He saw himself in his face cam still, his expression full of horror. 

Mark slammed the space bar to pause the video harder than he'd intended. There was something there. It was standing behind him, or so it looked like. Genuine goosebumps formed on his arms. Now he wasn't sure if he even wanted to sleep anymore.

Standing right behind him was a dark silhouette that looked faintly like the figure from his dream.


	5. Unstable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark's body rose from the couch, his muscles making loud cracking noises as they were stretched to their limits. A dark smile crossed his lips and he viewed his apartment with new eyes. “You have done pretty well for yourself, Mark. You're just missing something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the truth finally comes out.
> 
> 8 Track: http://8tracks.com/shaneish/no-reflection-darkiplier

Mark backed away from the computer, not even willing to close the video. He jerked around to look behind him once, twice, and again. He was paranoid. Were his eyes playing tricks on him, or was some fucked up guy on the internet trying to drive him mad? Whatever it was, it was working. Mark tried to reach into the logical, scientific portion of his brain, but it wasn't wanting to cooperate. There was no mistaking what he had seen. He hadn't done any editing obviously, nor was it posted to the internet in any way for someone to create a cruel joke. It was _raw_ video footage staring him in the face – unfortunately quite literally. He had been the only one in the apartment that night too, and he hadn't any pets. He was exhausting everything and coming up with nothing. 

He ran into the kitchen and grabbed some water, taking a drink before leaning back against the fridge. His eyes caught the Nyquil sleeping aid on the counter top and he lunged for it, throwing it into the trash can. He realized it was a bit drastic to throw out a new bottle of medicine, but at this point sleep was the last thing on his mind. No, it wasn't even there at all. 

Caffeine. He needed caffeine. 

Mark dug through his cupboard before finding a canister of coffee, sighing in relief as he drug it down onto the counter. He switched on his barely used coffee machine and set the water to boil. Good, it would be ready to go by that evening. 

Mark stopped dead in his tracks to grab a package of coffee filters. His face twisted into an involuntary smile, the smile turning into a laugh. He was losing his fucking mind. And over some game! One of his favorite games, too. That made the entire situation suck even worse than it had before. At least he hadn't started hearing voices, although seeing things might be a new problem. He shuddered at the memory. He felt like he was being watched now from every direction, and he couldn't stop the creeping sensation of anxiety crawling into his chest. 

He continued to prepare his coffee, his lips clamped tightly together. What if he called out? Would something answer? As silly as it sounded it would put his mind to rest. He flipped the brew option on the coffee machine and turned around, looking out into his apartment. It took him forever to fight with himself, to get over the foolish feeling of talking to an empty apartment. No one was there to know anyway, and if there were that would answer his question then, wouldn't it?

“He-” Mark cleared his throat loudly as his voice came out shakily. “Hey.” 

Well that was dumb. At least it sounded friendly, because being friendly with a possible evil entity was totally a thing. Evil beings could be friendly too. Hell, maybe it'd even come over and shake his hand, just like Dark had in his dream. Oh... _Dark_. Mark mustered up more courage and decided to acknowledge what he'd been meaning to do to begin with. 

“... Dark?”

 _Hissssss_. 

Mark's hair stood on end.

“ _Mmmmm... Mmmark_?”

“Oh no way, fuck you, man!” Mark was frozen to the spot as a shadow approached him, its form very clearly the one standing behind him in the video. It came close enough to brush a hand against his arm, and then it began to... laugh?

“ _Oh, shit, I'm sorry. I couldn't help a dramatic entrance_.” 

“Am I dreaming again? I'm totally dreaming.” Mark tried to touch Dark, but his hand went through the entity's chest. This caused Dark to shiver and he backed away.

“ _Don't touch me like that unless you're serious about being inside me_.”

“Which I'm definitely not.” Mark observed his alter-ego closely at a distance now. “How are you _even_?”

“ _I'm a projection of the dark in your soul. The more you let me in – the more you believe I exist; I will become that much more real. How else do you think I managed this stunt_?”

“So you're a... demon?” Mark realized the absurd nature of the question as soon as it left his mouth, but then again he wasn't in a position to judge anything at that moment.

“ _Well that's rude. I guess that's the way it would look to you_.” Dark sighed as he scoped out the apartment and then directed his attention to himself. He tugged at his shirt, the very same that Mark had been wearing. “ _Reptar? Really_?”

“Don't judge me- us! Whatever the fuck we or I am!” Mark took a stance of defense, pouting as he glared at Dark. The entity found this humorous and laughed at his counterpart, tilting his head to the side and gazing fondly upon Mark.

“ _You're amusing to speak to in person_.” Dark attempted to run a hand through Mark's hair but failed, his fingers only falling through the strands. He huffed in disappointment and scowled, looking to the floor. “ _I've got some plans for tonight_.” Mark backed away to create some more distance, his anxiety coming back tenfold.

“Whatever you're planning you're going to do yourself. Without me, that is.”

“ _I_ can't _do anything myself, really. I am you and you are-_ ”

“Me. Yeah, yeah I know. I'm still getting used to that, give me a bit will ya? It's a bit much to take in all at once.”

“ _Well rather you like it or not we're going to have some fun. I'm getting bored just sitting around, waiting for you to come to your senses_.”

“What are you _talking_ about? Is there something I'm missing? Some epic destiny I'm supposed to be fulfilling by letting you control me?”

Dark laughed humorlessly and began to wander around the apartment, stopping at Mark's computer that was still running the video. “ _This isn't one of your games, sorry 'bout that. No epic quest. Do not collect $200 and do not pass Go. It's a bit deeper than any of those silly indie games could possibly capture_.” Dark concentrated with his eyes on the mouse as if he were attempting to move it. He cursed and closed his eyes, gathering his resolve to speak once more without sounding irate. “ _You've denied yourself such simple pleasures for so long that you've finally reached your limit. Played the good guy for too long now. Everyone has a point at which they're tempted to do something sinful, not necessarily evil but corrupt in one way or another. Which reminds me... How was your morning_?” A lecherous smile crossed Dark's face, causing Mark to blush and avoid his gaze.

“That shit happens, okay? I can't control that!”

“ _How long has it been_?” 

“That's not important.” Mark was becoming angry now, pissed off that this crazy figment of his imagination was getting to him. This darkness inside himself, if that were true, was the exact opposite of the person he was in his waking life. He respected everyone unless given good reason not to. He gave back to those he was thankful to, held regular live streams for charity, and was pleased just to be able to do what he loved for a living. This damn entity was not about to screw that all up for him. He would not become some douchebag just because a figment of his imagination called itself his inner darkness. “I'm not interested in your agenda, so you can just fuck off, okay?”

“ _Get pissed all you want Markimoo. We're going out tonight, and you're going to fulfill some desires that are long overdue_.” Dark checked the clock on the computer, nodding as if making a promise to himself. “ _See you at ten. I would say be ready, but both you and I know you're going to fight it like hell. 'Til then_.”

Mark stood alone in his apartment once more, the hum of his computer being the only noise in the room. He blinked a few times before convincing himself that what had just happened was very real, and he was most likely going to do something he would later regret. Tonight. What scared him the most was how helpless he had become right before he had blacked out. He could try to fight it all he wanted, but when consciousness was leaving him that quickly without warning there was no stopping the inevitable. The only thing he could do was hope that it was all a waking nightmare, and he would see later that nothing was going to happen.

*

It was 9:30 PM when Mark began to sweat all over despite the a/c working just fine. He couldn't concentrate on anything, not even a simple flash game on Newgrounds. Once again he had gone a day without posting a video and he knew his fans would become concerned. He pulled out his phone as he made his way to the couch, typing a quick message into Twitter about being sick and that he would post soon. He came off as his usual self, which was good. He didn't need any suspicions rising that he was possibly more ill than he let on, and this wasn't an illness of the body. It was an illness of the mind, and it was scaring him. 

_No it isn't, Mark. You're not sick. Stop it!_

“Jesus.” Mark ran a hand through his hair as the voice in his head taunted him. Dark would be the end of his sanity and he knew it, at least, what little there was left. Mark looked at the clock once more. 9:45.

9:50.

9:58.

Mark's breathing came faster as he felt his head grow light, his vision becoming strained. A cold rush of panic hit him as he sunk down onto the couch, his body falling limp and out of his control. His last sight before he blacked out was the ceiling.

*

Mark's body rose from the couch, his muscles making loud cracking noises as they were stretched to their limits. A dark smile crossed his lips and he viewed his apartment with new eyes. “You have done pretty well for yourself, Mark. You're just missing something.” Dark searched around for where he would find the keys to Mark's car, but stopped in front of a mirror. He did a double take and made a face in the mirror, smoothing his hair back. “How do you not have women _throwing_ themselves at you on the street?” He then remembered his clothing, tugging at the Reptar shirt and throwing it on the floor. “Can't wear something like that for where we're going.”

Dark approached Mark's room, flicking on the light and spotting the closet. As he expected there was a large assortment of gaming shirts, Youtuber name logos, and a few that were at least set aside for nicer arrangements. He chose a black button up, leaving a generous neckline open. It looked nice with the jeans he already had on, and with one last look in the bedroom mirror he eyed Mark's keys on the nightstand. 

The building was quiet as he made his way downstairs, only a few lights turned on to help guide one through the entrance. He had been a passenger in Mark's mind for long enough to know where the car was and where to go. He jumped into the driver's seat and pulled out of the parking lot, cruising beneath the city lights with the windows rolled down in minutes. He flipped on the radio to find static there and laughed to himself. That audio file that Mark had listened to wasn't a fan-made mix at all. It had been of his own creation without his knowledge – a difficult task that Dark was proud of himself for. He had merely waited until Mark was pulling one of his all-nighters to set to work, the first night that Mark had lost consciousness due to his alter-ego. He had no memory of it of course - the blackout disguised as exhaustion and attributed to falling asleep unaware. 

Everything else had just played out on its own, Dark slowly getting stronger as Mark became more and more suspicious. That first night that he'd been able to use Mark to go out with his friends had been euphoric; his first true chance to truly be alive. Tonight he would be more cautious and more aware of Mark's bodily limits. He had been careless last time and it worried him. As much as he enjoyed helping Mark see the much more pleasurable side of life, he wished him no harm. He was a part of Mark's mind, after all. To wish harm upon Mark would be to wish harm upon himself, and he loved himself way too much for that.

The car stopped before a large building with loud music inside. One of LA's premier clubs that Mark almost never, if ever, visited. It was the perfect den of sin for what Dark had in mind. People with their minds on sex, drugs, and alcohol would be dancing inside, giving in to their carnal pleasures and their much needed release from the working, hectic world. 

Dark approached the building and paid to get inside, instantly feeling a rush as the music hit him like a tidal wave once the doors were opened. He took a moment to scope the place, spotting the bar and the bar flies. The place was dark except for the neon lights flashing everywhere, the dance floor full and the bar doing a lot of business. It was a Friday night, so everything was perfect. Even though it was half past ten the place was just beginning to light up.

Dark made his way to the bar at last, sitting down and ordering a strong drink. It didn't take long for him to spot a lonely beauty down the bar and he eyed her to get her attention. She smiled and moved to sit beside him, and he finally was able to get a better look at her. She was wearing a leather corset top, her makeup done in classic Goth style. Her red plaid school girl skirt was the very definition of what a mini skirt should be, and she wore knee boots that were covered in buckles. Kinky.

She smiled as he ordered her a drink, eyeing him up for size. “So why are you out here all by yourself?”

“I could ask you the same thing, beautiful.” He turned on the charm like a natural, sipping his drink as he watched her melt.

“I'm Lacey.”

“... Mark.”


	6. Your Best Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamer by day, 'vampire' by night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. I went there.
> 
> 8 Track: http://8tracks.com/shaneish/no-reflection-darkiplier

The way she moved on him was unreal – the girl had hips. Dark set his hands on them, guiding her as she swayed against him out on the dance floor. Lacey's arms went up and around Dark's neck, her back pressed firmly against his chest. His breath caught in his throat as she pressed her ass against him, her reaction similar as she felt the state that she had reduced him to. Dark took that as a sign to allow his hands to wander, his fingers ghosting over her breasts and sliding smoothly down the leather corset. They stopped at her waist and spun her around to face him. “Should I take that as an invitation, gorgeous?”

Lacey smiled and bit her bottom lip, coming in close to brush their lips together. “I'm game if you are.”

“Sounds like a plan. My place?”

“Hmmm...” She drew back to tease him, smirking when he tried to follow her lips. “A guy invites a girl back to her place, anything can happen. How do I know I can trust you?”

“'Cuz I'm famous. You're safe with me.”

“Famous? How so?”

“All over the internet. Youtube, Tumblr, Twitter. I can prove it to you when we get back.”

“It's against my better judgment, but...” Lacey leaned in and kissed Dark lightly, pulling away again and taking his hand. “You seem like an okay guy. No deal if you can't prove it when we get there, though.”

“I'll even give you a ride back tomorrow.” Dark laughed inside, knowing full well that Mark would do the honorable thing regardless. The shock he was going to have tomorrow morning would be priceless. It would be worth the night of pleasure, though. It had been too long since that body had felt the pleasures of another, and Dark was going to give him that. It was the least he could do in exchange for taking control.

The ride back to the apartment was full of tension. Dark teased Lacey with the sweet and not-so-sweet nothings he wanted to do to her. Her responses were lusty glances and a hand on his thigh as he drove a bit too fast through LA, slowing down only to pull into the apartment parking lot. Lacey observed the building through her window, stepping out as Dark opened the door for her. She seemed a bit more at ease to see a well-to-do place, her eyes lighting up as Dark led her to the doors. 

They used the stairs instead of waiting for an elevator, and fumbled the keys into the door lock as they made their way inside the apartment. Lacey dropped her small purse onto a side table and looked around, smirking as she saw all of the electronic equipment and game systems. “Gamer, huh?”

“It's what I'm known for.” Dark grinned as he grabbed Lacey from behind, nuzzling her neck as she groaned in response.

“Hey, you still gotta prove to me you're famous.”

“Hm?” Dark sighed and ceased devouring Lacey's neck, leading her to the bedroom. “In here.” She gazed upon the walls, spotting plaques commemorating his Youtube milestones. She giggled and turned to face Dark, rolling her eyes. “Okay, so you're a kinda famous. I honestly didn't believe you.”

“Kinda? Just kinda?” He embraced her once more, this time from the front. He slid his hands down her sides, once again devouring her neck. She laughed and gasped when he bit down – hard.

“Oh- Oh! Hey!” She slid a hand behind his head and through his hair, gripping tightly as the pain coursed through her neck. Dark pulled back slowly, smiling mischievously. 

“Sorry - have a bit of a biting problem.”

“Mmm, I love that. Vampire play is my thing.” Lacey slid her leg between his, teasing him until he couldn't seem to speak. He grabbed her thigh to stop her and backed her against the edge of the bed, sliding between her legs as she fell back. She was beyond herself with excitement, giggling and pulling at his buttons. Dark took the chance to lean down and kiss her fully for the first time, savoring her taste and nipping at her bottom lip. He pulled back to allow her access to his buttons once more, waiting patiently as she unhooked each one.

“Vampires are your thing? I hope you don't mind if I draw a little blood, then.”

*

Mark groaned as he rolled over in bed, his eyes meeting with the alarm clock on his night stand. It was 9:25 AM, a normal time to be awake at least. He felt his body drag as he rolled to lay on his back, his limbs feeling as if they had been through a massive workout within the past twenty-four hours.

Then it hit him.

Mark panicked as he sat up in bed, noticing quickly that he was completely naked. Oh shit number one. Oh shit number two: There was an extremely attractive girl lying equally as naked next him, her breathing slow and even as she slept. Mark slapped a hand over his mouth before he could utter any sort of sound of surprise, and crawled out of bed to slip on some pajama pants to at least cover himself. He backed against a wall and stared at the girl on the bed, a heat rising to his face. His body felt spent – his back stinging and his lips sensitive. He moved over to his mirror, twisting in awkward poses to see why in the hell his back was aching so badly. 

Raised red scratch marks lined his shoulder blades, some even mildly scabbed from blood drawn. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how _those_ got there. He made his way back over to the bed to make another displeasing discovery. There were hickeys on this girl's neck, some with teeth marks. 

Mark couldn't take anymore. He gently shook the girl awake, trying his best to smile as she rolled over. The sheet slid from her chest as she threw a hand above her head to rest on the pillow, gazing fondly upon him. He had to clear his throat to be able to even speak. “Uh, good morning.”

“'Morning my vampire.” She beckoned for him to join her, leaving Mark in an awkward position. He just stood where he was, staring at her, feeling like an idiot for not knowing what to do. Gathering himself he shook his head, trying to seem as if all were normal. Although this was Dark's doing, it had been Mark's body and Mark's face that this girl had seen. There was no sense in making himself out to be completely loony. 

“Sorry, I can't. I should probably get you home.” She seemed disappointed, but stood from the bed – Mark's heart stopping as she shamelessly bared herself to pick up her undergarments – and silently agreed.

“It's a shame. That was some mind-blowing, epic sex last night.” She slipped into her previous night's outfit, sitting on the edge of the bed to zip up her boots. “Best sex I've had in a while anyway. You're a fucking legend.”

“Uh, thanks?” Mark occupied himself with finding some clothes to wear, trying to avoid having to answer any questions. He was so painfully awkward in this situation. He had no idea what Dark had said to her, although he had a pretty good idea what he'd _done_ to her. Apparently it was 'legendary'. That much would save him from having to answer any questions that were too damaging. 

The girl giggled, standing up and fluffing her scene haircut. “'Thanks'? You're like a whole different guy in the morning, aren't you?” She watched him as he pulled a shirt over his head, bending over to slip on some shoes. “Vampire by night, gamer by day?” 

“Eh, something like that.” Mark gave her a tight-lipped smile, hurrying to open the bedroom door and grab his car keys. Where had Dark thrown them?! “God dingus damn it!”

“What did you just say?” The girl tried to speak through her laughter, her hands trying desperately to cover her mouth to block the obnoxious giggling. She was practically busting a gut as he searched through his couch cushions, the kitchen counters, and his bedroom once more. She glanced around and found her purse, and the keys lying beside it. She grabbed them and twirled them on her finger, clearing her throat loudly. “Looking for these?” Mark peeked around the corner from his bedroom, sighing when she held them out for him. His relief was short as she jerked them back quickly, shaking a finger at him. “Uh-uh. Gotta earn them, gamer boy.”

“Please?”

“You are so fucking adorable. I'll let you off with a kiss.” She closed her eyes and leaned forward a little, waiting for Mark to accept the invitation. He really didn't have a choice in the matter, and seeing as his body had done 'legendary' things to her last night, a kiss was the least of his worries. He leaned in and kissed her quickly, pulling back and holding out his hand. She smiled, thoughtful for a moment, then handed over the keys. “You really are a strange one, but I like it.” 

Mark smiled and shrugged, attempting to at least humor her a little bit. He didn't know what to say to her anyway, as all dialogue and methods of getting to know another human being were lost to his memory. That had all went down (literally) after he'd blacked out, so only Dark held the deep secrets of last night.

Mark drove as far as the club, having to awkwardly ask the girl where they had been the night before. He tried to play it off as being slightly drunk, which was a small lie he hoped she wouldn't catch. Luckily she did not, and climbed out of the car, waved bye, and got into her own vehicle. Mark sat in the parking lot for a time after that. He needed a moment to breathe.

He was looking forward to seeing Dark, actually. He was going to fucking ream him for this.


	7. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark makes a deal with his alter ego.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut smutty smut smut. But just vaguely so. Mark x Dark gives me life.
> 
> 8 Track: http://8tracks.com/shaneish/no-reflection-darkiplier

Mark slammed his apartment door a bit harder than he had meant to. He was not in a good mood despite the release his body had experienced the night before. He felt violated and dirty, and very much not himself. His main source of frustration stemmed from the fact that there was nothing he could do about any of this. He could sit at his computer and consume caffeine from morning until night, just playing game after game to try to fight fatigue and any form of sleep – forced or voluntary. Nothing would work in the end, and he was beginning to finally embrace the fact that this was not a medical condition. He was not cracking under pressure either, because there was no actual pressure as of late to break down from. No. Mark was just Mark as he had always been.

Except for now, apparently.

Mark was not the same silly Youtuber he had been for so long anymore. He was overwhelmed with a creeping sensation of depression, and for the first time in possibly _ever_ Mark did not feel like making a video. He could not find the energy or the enthusiasm to start up a new game, let alone an old series like a classic flash game from Newgrounds. Mark shook his head in his own disappointment of himself, falling onto the couch in front of the blank television. He should just turn on the TV and record something. Make something funny and force the humor in hopes that it would naturally come.

He ran his hands through his hair as he began to feel nauseated. The ache in his muscles no longer felt good, and it left him with the upsetting reminder that Dark had used his body to seek physical pleasure without his consent. Was there a term for that? Forced sex was a serious violation, except when it wasn't in Mark's case. His body had been as willing as that girl's the night of the legendary feat in bed, and even if he hadn't wanted it, but was forced to by Dark, what could he do? 'Hey, I'd like to report a rape case!' 'Oh? Please continue.' 'Ah, yeah, I sort of violated myself?' 

Mark began to chuckle, his chuckle turning into a laugh. This wasn't a jovial laugh, or one of any sort of comic relief. This laugh was dangerous – one full of venom and resentment. Dark had reached him on the physical plane once before, so what was stopping him from appearing now? It would have been an ideal time to kick Mark while he was down, to poke and prod him with teasing words. So why hadn't he? 

“Fuck!”

Mark rose from the couch and walked into his kitchen to find the coffee machine powered on. It must have been that way since the day before when he'd started it up to brew a few pots to keep from sleeping. Disregarding the fire hazard Mark poured out the old coffee and made a fresh brew. He had some research to do if he were to even begin to understand what was going on with him. He would need to be wide awake and aware to take things seriously that he once was skeptical about. To scour the paranormal side of the internet wasn't an abnormality for him, but this time it wouldn't be just for some Creepypasta silliness. 

*

After a few hours of reading Mark stood to grab a quick snack, but returned to his internet searches before long. He had remembered something about lucid dreaming, or so he had read somewhere at some point while looking up creepy stories. He found it to be a very real practice that many people engaged in, and while it was enlightening and powerful to be able to take control over your dreams and face your fears, it wasn't what he was looking to do. He had spoken to his alter ego in a dream before, and although Dark had mentioned that it wasn't an ideal form of communication, if Mark could take control over at least that much while he was unconscious Dark would not have a say in the matter.

Lucid dreaming required being very aware of your waking hours, and doing several checks during the day to be sure that you were awake and not dreaming. Rather it was setting an alarm to go off periodically as a reminder, or pinching oneself every few hours just to be aware of the reality apart from the unreality, Mark would do everything he could to begin this difficult venture. It wasn't easy to do, as he had read. People have reported that it takes disciplined practice – weeks and possibly months of it, but Mark did not have that much time to mess around with. He needed to be serious about it now, and he was hoping he already had a foot in the door with that previous dream in which he had interacted with Dark. 

Mark had been aware that he was dreaming then. He remembered how amazing and odd it was at the same time, but he also knew it had been induced by his alter ego. Dark could create these lucid dreams as he pleased, and seeing as Dark was a part of himself, Mark had no doubts that he, too, could create a lucid dreaming state if he desired. He just had to figure out how.

He wanted it bad enough. He was dedicated to the idea and the daily exercises to achieve it, but he would try it tonight. He would make a serious attempt, and even if it was beyond his ability to create this lucid state he wanted so badly to achieve, it was possible that Dark would take over for him and allow it to happen. Mark would just have to string him on long enough to gain control over the feat. Make Dark think that he would cave for a little while. 

If Dark could control Mark, then Mark could eventually control him and lock him away. It was merely a fucked up part of himself, and if that was honestly all that it was in the end, then that was an entirely reasonable goal. This was enough to brighten Mark's mood to boot up SCP Containment Breach. He didn't fear running into Dark there again, but instead welcomed it. He had a plan to figure this out, and until then he would try his best to keep Dark from taking control. To make his alter ego think he was ready to cave and give in on his own. 

He hoped Dark was dumb enough to believe it. It was not an easy task to fool yourself.

*

Mark hadn't seen it coming. When the game glitched after playing for so long it caught him by surprise for only a second before he calmed in his chair. He flipped off the camera to stop the recording, assuring himself that he would finish it later and edit it accordingly. After all of this was done he waited. Mark crossed his arms and stared at the screen defiantly, watching as the plague doctor sauntered across the screen to look at him. “I know you're there, Dark. Stop fucking around.”

_“Y-.-r .-.-o .-.-- un.-.”_

“Can't understand your ghosty-goo language, bro.”

_“Tu-.-n ar.-.nd.--.”_

Mark turned around slowly in his chair to face a blank wall before him. A shadow soon formed as a much clearer image of Dark came into focus than before. The more Mark believed, the stronger he got, was it? It couldn't be helped now. Mark would have to finish this whole problem that had started. 

_“Hey Markimoo. Enjoy your night out?”_

“Must've slipped my mind. Remind me again what in the fuck happened?”

 _“We had so much fun, Mark.”_ Dark approached the computer chair, placing his hands on the arm rests. It was curious how solid they seemed to be considering what he was. _“I can help you remember, if you'd like. It may be a bit of a rush for you, though.”_

“I already feel like shit for what happened. I'd at least like to know what I did so I can answer to things later.”

 _“Okay then, Mark.”_ The entity laughed lecherously, a hand raising slowly to caress Mark's jawline. _“Just don't say I didn't warn you. There isn't much I can do to help with the after effects.”_ Mark swallowed hard as Dark leaned in to ghost his lips across a pair similar to his own, a small smile playing upon the shadowed lips. _“When I – we – touched her... you should have felt her squirm with desire.”_ Dark teased Mark's lips with his own once more before sliding a hand to his chest, the heart beat there picking up speed. _“She wanted us so badly, Mark. Especially when I-”_ Dark paused to slide his lips down Mark's neck, opening his mouth to bite gently into the living flesh. Mark gasped as he felt teeth graze his skin, unprepared to actually feel anything from Dark's touch. 

“You- you actually bit her?”

 _“Where else did those teeth marks come from?”_ Dark released Mark's skin and slid his shadowed fingers across Mark's lips. _“It made her feel things she'd never felt before, she said.”_ Dark's fingers trailed seductively down Mark's chin to his neck, and then across his collar bones. They danced over the fine cotton of his shirt, and further – further until they reached their goal between Mark's legs. _“She said she felt wonderful things there, too.”_

“Fucking Christ-” Mark breathed the words as his body responded, as the memories slowly seeped into the blank spot in his brain. It was as if he were feeling every single sensation from that night all at once. His nerve endings were on fire and his jeans became a painful restriction as Dark somehow managed to breathe in his ear. He wouldn't have admitted it aloud, but he didn't want Dark to stop there. It was like a drug to experience sex without actually having sex, and an entirely new sensation that Mark couldn't handle much longer. He was going to lose it right there in the chair. Thank the gods his camera was turned off.

 _“She screamed your name! You should have heard how wanton she had become when I went down on her.”_

“Dark- Dark, stop. Please.” Mark's breathing had become labored as his hips shifted in the chair, then as they began to rock. He was going to...

_“Then when we finally became one; oh god the way it felt in a body that hadn't had that sort of connection in so long.”_

“I-”

 _“I was surprised with your endurance. It was mind shattering when you finally let everything go.”_ Dark bit Mark's ear as he ran a thumb across Mark's lips. _“Just let everything go.”_

Mark's hips bucked hard as pleasure erupted in his veins. He moaned embarrassingly loud into his quiet apartment, gripping at the arm rests of his computer chair for life. He didn't want it to end – ever. The euphoria and the rush that caused his pelvis to tingle with release tickled clear down into his legs as he curled his toes. When it had finally passed he became aware of a cooling wetness in his jeans and looked down. Embarrassment took over him then almost as powerfully as his release had. “Really, man? In my god damn jeans?”

 _“Some would consider that a compliment; I definitely do.”_ Dark backed away from Mark, observing him fondly. _“Either that, or masturbation with a twist.”_

“Is that all you think about?” Mark shifted uneasily in his chair and cringed. It felt so gross.

 _“Where, oh where do you think I was created, Mark?”_ Dark lowered his eyes as he paused, his expression unreadable. _“I was born from your vices that you keep locked away – vices that every human being has a desire to indulge in as a primal instinct. Not all do, however, and the stress builds up. You're a good guy, and that looks wonderful, and it's genuine. Even I can appreciate that much about you.”_

“I thought you were me? Why are you talking to me as if I'm separate from you?” Mark raised a skeptical eyebrow.

 _“Because_ you're _the good guy and I'm not. You're one side of the coin and I'm the other. Somehow I feel like I'm becoming a repeating record.”_

“Forgive me if my brain is complete goop right now.” 

_“Right. Tends to happen with that. Anyway, it's your biggest problem. You have way too much pent up sexual frustration, Mark. Gets to you eventually.”_

“You mean _you_ get to me.” Mark sighed and rolled his eyes. “Literally.”

 _“Yep. I'm here to help you realize what you're missing. I'm the little devil on your shoulder.”_ Dark raised his arms and made jazz hands, smiling innocently enough. 

“Isn't making me miserable causing you misery, too? Don't we share the same... equipment?”

_“No, not when it's hidden desires being fulfilled. I am rather defensive over you, however. Any emotional pain inflicted by another, or any outside trouble created by a hand other than mine does get to me. Believe it or not I do care for you, Mark.”_

Mark huffed a laugh and stood at last, walking oddly into his bedroom. He needed to change before he was overwhelmed by the gross feeling in his pants. “That's a huge line of bullshit if I ever heard one.”

 _“Well I don't wish my own demise, so I definitely don't wish yours!”_ Dark followed Mark into his bedroom. _“The narcissism thing, remember?”_

“Dude, I am _not_ a narcissist!” 

_“Shall I go play back every moment on your recordings where you've complimented yourself? Or will you save me the trouble by remembering for us?”_

“It's for fucking comedy! I don't literally act like a douchebag!” Mark slipped into his pajama pants and stood before Dark, crossing his arms. He had to relent a little if he were going to control this, and fighting with his alter ego was not accomplishing that. “I like making people laugh, you should know that.”

 _“I do. I actually enjoy your humor at times.”_ Dark softened and sat on the bed. _“Do you really hate me so much? Do you really despise this part of yourself?”_ Mark was caught off guard by the entity's sadness, and he sat down beside Dark.

“No, I don't hate you. It's just not appropriate to act on those urges right now for me. I'm the good guy – the silly dude who sits behind a computer screen and screams at video games. That's all I want right now and I'm happy.” Mark smiled and glanced at Dark, who was still frowning. “Hey man, I'll make a deal with you.”

_“Really?”_

“Yeah. I'll let you relieve my-” Mark held up quote fingers as he imitated Dr. Frank from Rocky Horror Picture Show, “- _tensions_. But not with anyone else.”

 _“You want me to relieve them for you? Like,_ me _?”_

“It's harmless enough. You're just me, and it's not like I haven't done that before anyway for myself.”

_“But I want more than that!”_

“Calm your tits. Just give me time to think, alright? I'll work with you, but you gotta give me time.” 

_“I'll agree to this, but don't betray my trust.”_ The air seemed to grow thicker in the room instantly, and the lights flickered in Mark's apartment. His heart jumped into his throat when he saw the anger that soured the entity's face. It was raw and frightening, and it definitely spoke of someone not to screw with. _“There are many, many worse things I could do during your little blackouts, Mark. Things that would ruin you.”_ Mark realized he had stopped breathing and let out a shaky breath, his body feeling a strange tingling sensation where he sat closest to Dark. He could not screw this up. 

“A-alright. You can trust me. So, we good?” Mark held up a hand for his alter ego to shake, and the entity did so hesitantly. It was a cold pressure against his palm that didn't quite feel like anything he'd ever touched before, but the deal was sealed either way. They dropped hands and stared at each other for some time, gauging the other's sincerity. After a few minutes Dark seemed satisfied and rose from the bed, his form beginning to fade. 

_“See you soon. Just don't take too long to figure things out. I'm restless.”_


	8. As One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark may have made a mistake...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! No Reflection is back, and I will try to keep it going again. Thanks so much to everyone who has enjoyed this thus far :)
> 
> 8 Track: http://8tracks.com/shaneish/no-reflection-darkiplier

Finally – a normal freaking day. It was all Mark had wished for since the beginning of all of his problems, but he still didn't feel good at all. The unusual absence of a nightmare and Dark's taunting left him feeling somewhat incomplete, as odd as it was to admit it. Regardless he ignored the strange emptiness inside of him and set up his recording equipment. He had been slacking with the video updates and his fans were becoming worried; a few were even messaging him at regular intervals. The messages were all similar, a lot of people worried that Mark had gotten sick or that he was too dedicated to rest his body, which according to some was weakened by his usual diligence to his work. As always Mark assured everyone via Twitter and Facebook that he was fine, and that he knew what he was doing. As much as it did bother him that everyone kept nagging him to take a break, he also felt a bit of warmth inside knowing that so many people cared for him – over seven million people who barely knew him but looked out for him and his well being. It brought a smile to his face and he set up his camera for a vlog, which he had meant to do for some time anyway. He couldn't divulge everything that had happened recently with Dark, but he could let everyone know that he loved them all, appreciated their concern, and set their minds at ease. 

Mark's hand hovered over the record button as he pieced his words together in his mind. What could he tell them that wouldn't worry them? He technically _was_ fine – his health was in line as far as he knew. Everything else was just mental confusion caused by a dark alter-ego, and it could no doubt eventually begin to wear him down physically. It already had started down that path as it was, but he was in no danger. He would just tell everyone that videos were planned and that something personal came up. That was best. Mark hated lying to his fans like that, but this was so off the damn wall that no one would take him seriously. Why would they? They would just think he was feeding the Darkiplier community more fan fiction ideas, which he did not need at that moment. He had enough of an awkward time dealing with the real thing itself.

He flicked on the record button and cleared his throat, took a few deep breaths, and smiled into the camera. “Hey guys. I just wanted to make a video to let you all know that I'm just fine,” he made a silly suggestive gesture with his hands, “as you can see. I realize the videos have been sporadic lately and I feel terrible about that. I feel like I'm letting you guys down and believe me when I say I honestly don't want to do that.” Mark took a breath and prepared his white lie. “A few things have come up in my personal life, nothing serious, that I've had to deal with. I'm not sure when it will be resolved, but it's been requiring a lot of my attention and it's unfortunately cut into my recording time. I do have some things lined up that I want to do for you guys, though. I'm going to honor a few requests for games you've all been sending me, and hopefully get a few things out very soon.” Mark paused to try to find more words – tried like hell to ignore the eerie silence in his apartment and mind. “I may have to go down to one video a day here for a few more days, but hopefully just a few more. I promise I'll be up and running like I usually am in no time, so hang in there!”

A few parting words, many thanks, and a 'buh-bye' was the last of the recording before Mark turned off the camera. He knew his fans would probably notice his lack of usual humor. His bag of tricks just seemed to be missing that day, as well as his quick wit. He felt bothered by the strange normality of the moment and he couldn't figure out why. He didn't miss Dark or anything, but he was worried that the deal they had made had created some sort of connection. A weird, co-dependent thing that was most likely causing the small bit of loneliness in the back of his mind. 

He shook his head and leaned back in his chair, smoothing his hair back. Had he made a mistake last night? Maybe he hadn't thought things out as thoroughly as he had hoped, and very possibly created a whole new problem. Well shit.

*

Fresh air was exactly what was needed. Mark spared not a second thought on the idea, and he left his apartment after grabbing his wallet and phone. It was hot as was atypical to LA's usual forecast, but the sun shining down upon Mark's face felt like heaven. It was a welcome warmth that rivaled the coldness that Dark brought with him. It was already working to boost Mark's mood, and after checking a few new texts from his friends in regards to his well being, Mark headed off towards the park. It wasn't a place he visited often, but it was peaceful enough and better than weaving in and out of noisy shops. 

Finally reaching a moment of peace within, Mark sat on a wooden bench by a small pond. People were jogging by or walking hand-in-hand chatting amongst themselves. He smiled as he saw a particular couple stop to kiss, and it was then that his brain finally broke its silence. Kissing – it felt nice, and he hadn't felt it so long. Only Dark had been given that experience the other night when he'd taken control, and it was only yesterday that Mark had been able to feel another's touch so intimate, even if it was only through second-hand memory recall. Well, and Dark had copped a bit of a feel. For a non-corporeal being it had been almost too real.

Mark's hand shot up to his neck. Dark had bit him there, and strangely enough the area still felt tender. His heart began to pound as he realized how real this whole things was, and if Dark could leave a mark like that then what else was the entity capable of? A sudden fear enveloped Mark at the realization that his alter ego could merely be holding back to humor him. When they had made that deal about physical pleasure last night, Mark had thought it something trivial. Now he wasn't so sure. Did he just give Dark permission to...

Mark stood from the bench and started walking again, his stride turning into a speed walk in his attempts to get somewhere else. He needed to shock himself back into reality. Shit was getting scary and he was getting careless. It was getting to the point where almost anything in his environment could serve as a trigger, and it was starting to piss him off. He wasn't safe anywhere anymore, and he wasn't even sure that Dark couldn't just pop out of nowhere anywhere. Home. It was safer at home and dangerous all the same. As long as Mark was a victim of his own mind, there was no possible way to escape it.

*

Not even the sound-proofing foam could block out the loud slam that emanated from the door. Mark entered his apartment angrily and threw his wallet onto the coffee table, completely lost as to what to do or where to go. He felt a pull in the back of his mind, and the pull became stronger as he tried to ignore it. After a time he had no choice but to acknowledge the tingling sensation for what it was, and his eyes grew wide as a dark form appeared before him.

_“See how much easier it is when you just let it happen?”_

“How are you happening right now? Can you just come and go as you please?”

 _“It's gotten easier since you've acknowledged me physically. You let me touch you, and you let yourself believe, if even for a moment, that I am very real.”_ Dark circled around to stand behind Mark and wrapped his arms around a waist like his own. His chin rested gently on Mark's shoulder, and he breathed a puff of cool air into Mark's ear, causing him to shudder.

“So what, you can touch me?” Mark sputtered a humorless laugh in an attempt to regain his composure.

 _“I could always touch you, Markimoo. I just needed your consent for... other things.”_ Dark's hand circled around a muscular chest.

“That's what last night was? You wanted me vulnerable so you could get consent?” Mark swallowed hard, the next question barely able to leave his lips in just more than a sultry whisper. “You want to fuck me now, don't you?” It felt so dirty to say even though Mark had said far, far worse in his Youtube videos. A shiver ran down his spine.

 _“I'll leave that one to your imagination. Do I?”_ Dark chuckled and backed away from Mark. _“I'll let you stew on that one until your mind goes numb. Or until the anticipation becomes too much for you.”_ The entity stood before Mark once more and bit his lip seductively. _“The closer I get to you, the more control I have. I've noticed you're finding it hard to keep a good mood these days?”_

“Oh, I wonder what gave that one away?” Mark's sarcastic smile was dangerous, his temper rising. 

_“Looks like you need a new door knob after that one.”_ Dark approached the door and carelessly wiggled the loose knob. _“You need to stop fighting me. It's fate that you will eventually become one with me, and I won't have to cause you your little nightmares and humiliating black outs anymore. You will be conscious and well aware of your actions – and you will enjoy them. You will be me.”_

“I was happy with myself before you! I don't get what sort of fucking epiphany you're expecting me to have about any of this. You seem to think I need you to improve my life, but I really don't. My life was fine – perfect even. All you're accomplishing is being a giant dick!”

 _“Don't get me started on that last one.”_ Dark winked suggestively and Mark huffed in irritation. The entity moved closer to Mark and embraced him, hooking his arms under a pair of large biceps, pulling them close together with an ethereal strength he hadn't possessed before. Mark froze as Dark pressed their lips together, his hands hesitating before coming up to rest on either side of the entity's face. When they were close like this all control was lost. It was as if he didn't even have his self control anymore, and everything that happened in his mind became so primal. All he could feel was the pleasure coursing through his veins – the years of sexual frustration coming to the surface like a tidal wave. 

Mark tried to regain control over his breathing as they parted - Dark's tongue flicking over his lips one last time before they met eye-to-eye once more. It was like a strange drug trip that melted his mind as it had the last time they were close. He couldn't find words, at least none that made any sense. He was too damn weak to handle this. It was a weakness that stemmed from his confusion over the entire thing, and he once again found himself helpless. He had thought he was smart, he had thought he'd figured it all out. He was dead wrong.


	9. Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Mark's final attempt to block out the darkness inside of him, he finally sees that there is no other alternative. He has to give in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end! Thank you everyone for sticking with me, and loving this fic so much! I rarely ever finish multi-chapter fics, so I'm really proud of this one. Here's the final chapter, and I hope it's what you've all been waiting for!
> 
> Check out the playlist here: http://8tracks.com/shaneish/no-reflection-darkiplier

“Hey Jack! How you been?”

“Eh, you know. Pretty good I guess.” 

Mark smiled as he saw Jack's face focus in his Skype window. It had been some time since he'd seen any of his friend's faces, and Jack had happened to text him with a game request. They didn't create collaborations together very often, but Mark thought it would be a perfect mini-vacation for his mind. To be able to sit back and laugh until he nearly puked while playing a silly game with a friend was long overdue, and his fans would love it. 

And then an idea hit him. “Jack, you ever watch my Drunk Minecraft series?”

“I've seen most of them, why?”

“Well, I was thinking...” Mark stood up and grabbed his double shot skull glass from the far side of his desk. He flashed it in the camera. “I got some Fireball Whiskey. You up for a game?” 

“Fuck yeah!” Jack smiled wide and set forth to update his Minecraft client, attempting to connect to the internet. “I mean, I don't really play the game but might as well.”

“Alright!” Mark grinned and got up to retrieve the strong whiskey from the kitchen. He was vaguely aware of the tingling in the back of his head, but he chose to ignore it to the best of his ability. It was a bit easier to ignore when someone else was nearby, even though it was only via a Skype session. The last thing he wanted Jack to see was his creepy alter-ego. What would be worse is if Jack wouldn't be able to see Dark at all, and it was just an overly realistic figment of Mark's imagination.

He growled in irritation and speed walked back to his computer where Jack was waiting with a tall beer. “Ready to go Mark?”

“More than ready, trust me.” Mark sighed as he started up Minecraft, not bothering to open his recording software. “Mind if we just do this for shits and giggles?”

“Fine with me. Don't feel like recording today?”

“Not really.” A small bit of depression clouded Mark's mind before he steeled his resolve and connected to a server in Minecraft. Jack took a few moments to set things up, but not before voicing his concern. Mark hadn't seemed himself since the beginning of the conversation, and Jack could see it in his friend's face.

“You okay, Mark? Anything you need to talk about?” Jack had paused his actions and took a sip of his beer, waiting on Mark's answer. Mark focused on Jack's face in his Skype window for a second before forcing a smile, shaking his head.

“Nah. Just feeling a bit off lately. Probably just tired. Recording can take a lot out of you sometimes.”

“Yeah. I usually don't feel it 'til it's, like, five in the morning, but that's just me.” Mark laughed at Jack and poured his first shot. 

“Cheers buddy.”

*

It was late afternoon by the time Jack and Mark had drifted from the game. Jack handled his alcohol a bit better than Mark, his demeanor only changing to a more relaxed, talkative state. Mark was rambling too, but had broken out into giggles any time Jack attempted any sort of joke that wasn't even remotely funny. It was safe to say that they were both pretty far gone, and about time for Mark to get food. He hadn't really eaten much all day, and he found that alcohol wasn't settling the grumbling in his stomach. “Hey, hey man, I'll be right back. Gonna get some pizza. You want some?”

“I'm in Ireland you dumbass.” Jack broke out into laughter as Mark realized what he'd just said. “Anyway, I don't think you should be ordering pizza while you're that pissed.”

“Order it for me then.” Mark leaned back in his chair, causing it to lean back a bit too far and he had to double his efforts to keep from falling, which elicited another laugh from Jack's side of the computer. “Shut up!” 

“You are completely smashed! You should go lay down.”

“'m fine! I just need some pizza or something. Be right back.” Mark lifted himself from his chair and stumbled slightly, regaining his balance enough to go into the kitchen. Once there he swung the refrigerator open wide and sighed as he felt the cold air on his heated face. “There's no fucking pizza in here!”

_“You're so adorable when you're drunk off your ass, Markimoo.”_

“Jesus _fuck_ what are you doing here? I did not give you permission to be here right now.” Mark groaned as he stood to face Dark, who was approaching him from the other side of the kitchen. 

_“I don't need your permission to do anything.”_ Dark pinned Mark's arms above his head against the refrigerator. _“Playing games with your little friends?”_

“Fuck off, man.” 

_“Hmmm. I wonder what Jack would think if he heard you making your sweet little pleasure noises out here.”_

“Don't you dare! 'm not in the mood for this.” Mark struggled to fight against Dark's strength, but he found it futile, which scared the shit out of him. How could a disembodied being have such strength?

“Mark? You still there?” Jack's voice came floating over the sound of the running refrigerator. 

_“I'll be there in a minute! I'm a bit preoccupied right now.”_

“Don't answer for me you ass!” Mark arched his back in another attempt to escape Dark's grasp. It only grew tighter as his body met with another like his, the distance between them now to a close. He grew weak as Dark thrust against him, daring to become much more intimate than they had ever been before. The alcohol clouding his system made it hard to resist such advances, and he found himself slumping against the cool white door as Dark thrust forward in a slow, tantalizing motion. Mark inhaled sharply as he felt his body responding, his mind only half focused on the fact that Jack was still on the computer in the next room. He had to give himself credit for being aware of even that; he was finding it hard to focus on much of anything at the moment.

_“Look at you, naughty boy. You want this.”_

“I can't take much more of this shit.”

_“Then stop fighting me!”_

Mark glared at his alter ego who had stopped to grin mischievously at him. He was done. He was so fucking done with everything. The stress that had been building within his body and mind within the past few weeks was reaching a climax. He had tried to escape through alcohol, which hadn't worked as he'd hoped. He couldn't even be allowed to enjoy one normal evening with a friend and a good game. Dark had wrecked him utterly, and he could no longer keep up the fight. His body was growing weaker the longer he resisted, and it was to a point, although he was already weakened from the alcohol, where he just had to admit defeat.

Dark's eyes widened in surprise as he felt the resolve slowly leave Mark's body. If his face could have turned a shade of red, it would have at that very moment. _“Oh Markimoo, you have no idea how long I've waited.”_

Mark swallowed hard as the being before him kissed him once more. This one, however, was different. It held much more intent than the last, and Mark soon found himself breathless, his arms embracing his darkness to finally accept defeat. He found that he was much more willing once he'd accepted his fate, and the rest came much more easily. He was aware of the creeping fire rising quickly in his stomach, causing him to rock his hips against Dark's, who responded with a pleasant groan. _“Let's do this properly.”_ Dark raised his hand and flicked his wrist, the sound of Mark's computer powering off suddenly reaching his ears. _“Lead the way, Mark.”_

Mark did as he was told, walking much straighter now to the back of the apartment where his bedroom waited for them. They were barely inside before Dark pushed him back onto the mattress, crawling over him and gaining possession of Mark's shirt, which ended up in a wrinkled heap on the floor. They both took a moment to observe each other as if for the first time, hands running curiously over smooth skin and scarred alike. Dark had scars everywhere, even in places that Mark hadn't been aware of before. His pecs, by his navel, and around his hips. They weren't deep, raised scars, but soft pale ones that had never seemed to heal. “What are the scars?”

_“The scars?”_

“Here...” Mark ghosted fingers over Dark's belly, making the entity shiver with delight. “And everywhere else?”

_“Every scar is for every bit of pain you have ever felt in life – emotional or physical.”_ Mark paused and felt a clench in his chest, as if his heart hurt to hear the words. The only thing he could think to do to remedy the situation was to slide his fingers gently around to Dark's hips, feeling the bones there. The entity bit his lip and rocked his hips forward as the sensation sent waves of pleasure through both of them. 

Mark groaned and closed his eyes. “Do I feel everything you feel?”

_“When we're like this, yes. Remember: I am you, and you are me.”_ Dark slid a hand down Mark's chest to his stomach, and further to the waistline of his jeans. The pale skin below his hand tightened as ethereal fingers unhooked the silver button, slowly teasing the skin beneath the jeans before sliding the zipper down. Mark let out the breath he'd forgotten to take, his mouth dropping open in a silent moan as Dark curled his fingers around the erection in Mark's underwear. The entity took his other's hand, guiding it into a similar position on his scarred body. 

“What's going to happen-” Mark's voice caught as Dark reached into his underwear, teasing the sensitive skin. “What's going to happen when you... you know?”

_“When we become one? Exactly as it sounds. I'll make it as pleasant as possible for you.”_ Dark slid down the bed and set his head between Mark's legs after disposing of his jeans. _“I wish us no harm.”_

Mark finally let out the emotions he had been feeling up until now as he set his hands on Dark's head, thankful that Jack was no longer able to hear anything from this side of the connection they'd had. His grip became tighter as his legs became shaky, his body pleading for a release. He groaned in frustration as Dark came back up to meet him, kissing him deeply before grinding against him, skin on skin. With the added fullness of two fingers, Mark arched his back, not used to the odd sensation. He had only ever slept with women in the past when he was sexually active, but never once with a man. Obviously Dark knew what he was doing, so he would relax and sink into the sensations. He was beginning to want this just as much as the entity.

_“Do you want me, Mark?”_

“This is it?”

_“Yes.”_ Dark smiled and tilted his head to nip at the skin on Mark's neck. _“This is it.”_ The entity gasped as Mark curled a leg around his back, urging him to go ahead. 

“Then just fuck me already.”

Mark closed his eyes tight as pain evolved into pleasure, his body now feeling full and complete. Dark thrust faster and faster above him, watching with half-lidded eyes as Mark grabbed at the sheets. His face was shining with perspiration as his body rocked back and forth, his mind growing strangely warm and fuzzy. The creeping release that was caressing his thighs and stomach came closer as he seemed to dissociate with reality altogether, and soon that reality completely exploded into the ether as both Mark and his other reached their climax, everything fading soon after.

*

Mark awoke, his attempts to blink away the cloudy sensation in his eyes futile for the moment being. He looked around for Dark, feeling slightly depressed when he saw no trace of the being. No, wait.

A smile crossed his features. 

*

“Hello everybody! Sorry for the lack of videos lately. I know I keep apologizing, but everything is back on track in my life and I'm ready to get back to giving you two videos a day. I've received so many requests that I'm going to try to get to, and there are a few collabs coming your way that I've teamed up with Jack, Bob, and Wade to do. This past week has been a hell of a crazy time for me, but know that things are now back to normal, if not better than ever.” 

Mark cracked his neck as he moved his head from side to side, and gave the camera a rare, mischievous grin. The feed seemed to glitch slightly before coming back into focus.

“I've got so much in store for this channel. Just you wait.”

END


End file.
